


of Sharehouses and Sanity

by Aeon



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Families of Choice, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-09
Updated: 2012-10-04
Packaged: 2017-11-13 21:16:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 31,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/507798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeon/pseuds/Aeon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Zuko, the heir to his Father's estate, is kicked out and cut off for disgracing the family name. Zuko is left with only a handful of options: die; or move into a sharehouse with Suki, Sokka and (most importantly), Jet. Hilarity ensues, as Jet teaches Zuko how to let go and enjoy life.</p><p>There's pumpkin suits, tits, awkward shower scenes, absurd depictions of Faye Dunaway, big booty bitches and secret affairs. Also: Suki is thoroughly disgusted by the idea of straight porn and Sokka is a red-hot tired mess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. a fire without a spark

Zuko took a deep breath. This was it - the final resting place of his prestige – the lime green door of his new house. He recalled the door to his old house, his father's house. It was in such sharp contract to this one - a grand mahogany arch, stained French doors with large custom ordered phoenix-styled bronze handles. He sighed. He had certainly taken the plunge from riches to rags.

'Mate, where do you want the bed? It’s bloody heavy.'

Zuko, preoccupied with a sort-of grim amusement, slowly and with a bit of hesitance craned his head toward the voice. It belonged to Joe De Menzies, of De Menzies Removals. He was a brute of a man, with forearms the size of great danes.

'Hold on,' Zuko said absently. He took another deep breath and bit the bullet, slowly extending a finger toward the doorbell. Once he pressed it, it would surely sink in that he would not be returning home. At least not anytime soon anyway. Just over a week ago Zuko's father had banished him from the family estate for disgracing the family name. His credit cards were shredded and his assets frozen, leaving Zuko essentially with only the clothes on his back and all the possessions that he was able to grab before his father's business call ended.

A loud _thunk_ tore Zuko from his thoughts. He turned around to find his bed in the dirt.

'You got time to think, we got time to smoke,' Joe huffed angrily.

Zuko groaned inwardly. He returned to the doorbell and his inward struggles. Once he pressed that button he would have to move in. He would have to accept what had happened and he would probably have to _feel_...

Joe made the decision for him, barrelling up to the button and hammering it right in the face with his fist. 'Jesus kid, it's a doorbell not a puzzle.'

_Gimmie, gimmie mooooore. Gimmie moooore. Gimmie, gimmie moooorree._

Zuko shuddered. Their doorbell was not a ding, nor was it a dong, it was not a combination of the two or even a variation of them both; their doorbell was Gimmie More by Britney. What had he got himself into?

'Don’t you have a key?' Joe asked incredulously.

'Apparently they don’t have keys.' Zuko rolled his eyes; that was probably a warning sign from the outset. Maybe he could still make a run for it...

'So how do they get in?'

'I have no idea. I hope they’re home. Jet said--,' The door flew open, smacking Zuko in the face, 'AH! What the fuck? What kind of front door opens outwards?'

'Ours does,' Jet giggled guiltily, “Hey Zuko... sorry.'

'Is my nose bleeding?'

Joe walked up and clapped Zuko on the back, sending him face-first back into the door. Zuko made a gurgling noise as lime green wood collided with flesh. 'Yes, yes it is. We’re going on break,' Joe laughed, sucking back the last of his Marlboro as he walked back to the truck humming _Gimmie More_.

Jet smiled down at Zuko. He stretched out a hand and pulled him back up from his kneeling position. 'C’mon Zuko, let’s get you cleaned up.' Jet lead him through the lime green door, tilting back his head so he wouldn’t bleed on the floor. Zuko had never had a nosebleed before, but he had seen enough movies to know that you’re supposed to pinch your nose when you get them.

They reached the kitchen, where Jet helped Zuko up on to the bench. “Okay, let’s have a look at the damage,” Zuko moved his hand away from his nose, “HOLY SHIT!” Jet screamed.

“What? WHAT?” Zuko panicked, looking around for a mirror.

“Hah, I’m just screwin’ with ya’, it looks fine. We’ll just stick some tissues up there and you’ll be good to go.” Jet grabbed the tissue box and tilted Zuko’s face towards his.

“Thanks Jet,” Zuko mumbled, and then sighed.

“You know, you sigh a lot,” Jet said, cupping Zuko’s chin and cleaning the blood from his nose with a rag that frankly smelt a little weird.

“Oh, sorry. It’s a bad habit, I’m trying to kick it – my ex-girlfriend Mai used talk through sighs.”

“She sounds hilarious.”

“She was a bit of a pessimist. I think it kind of rubbed off on me a little. First I started the world as shades of grey, but then it just turned black.”

An awkward moment passed. “Well, Suki and I took the whole day off to help you!” Jet said cheerily.

“You didn’t need to do that.”

“Yeah, I kinda did. Not because I wanted to help you, I just didn’t feel like going to uni today.”

“Oh,” Zuko didn’t feel special at all, anymore.

“Oh I’m just kidding Zuko, you sad sack.” Jet chuckled and threw the rag into the sink. He then handed Zuko a tissue. “Just stick that up there and you’ll be fine. It’s my solution to everything.” He smiled.

“Thanks.” Zuko hopped off the bench and smiled back at Jet. Being his first smile in about four weeks, it just felt like his face was stretching in odd ways. Upon hearing the removalists lumbering through the front door, they moved back out of the kitchen.

\---

“Yeah, just stick all his crap in there guys. SUKI COVER UP! WE HAVE COMPANY!”

Suki strolled out of her room seconds later donning a large orange pumpkin suit. Jet raised an eyebrow.

“The washing machine is broken,” she said quickly. “It was either this or my niece’s tutu... And I wore that yesterday.”

Jet shrugged it off. Zuko wasn’t so much worried about the washing machine being broken, as he was about Suki apparently walking around the house naked in the absence of strangers.

“S’wrong Zuko?” Jet beamed, walking into Zuko’s new room to inspect the bed.

“Huh? Oh… nothing. I just hate moving,” Zuko sighed again. Whoops.

Jet eyed him suspiciously, but was distracted once again by Zuko’s prince-sized bed, “This is a nice bed, Zuko!”

“Yeah.” It was a nice bed, as much ornate as it was comfortable – it sported a mattress that was custom tailored to Zuko’s posture, giving him a good sleep all night, every night. But it was just another possession – another reminder. Unfortunately, that was all he had left: a truck load of reminders, which constantly reiterated his failure.

Jet flopped on to the bed, letting out a squeal of marvel in recognition of how instantaneously more comfortable he felt. “Wow,” he was exasperated, “Can I sleep with you from now on?”

Zuko blushed. He’d been too wrapped in self-pity to realise that Jet was actually pretty attractive, and he certainly would not mind if they shared a bed. Zuko had only known Jet for a couple of weeks now, whilst the two of them penned out conditions for renting the room.

“Uh… sure?” Zuko inwardly kicked himself in the groin, he’d never been a very good people person – he hadn’t the foggiest why Jet, so talkative and sociable, had even considered Zuko for the extra room in the first place – Zuko himself doubted that he’d be a valuable addition to the household.

Jet laughed. “Be prepared to swallow those words when the time comes,” He fell back on to the bed, with yet another sigh of pleasure. Zuko smiled, perhaps living here wouldn’t be as bad as he had originally thought.

“Coming through,” boomed Joe, as he heaved a desk through the door, scraping the doorframes. Jet sprung from his lying position.

“Hey,” Jet screamed, “a little respect from the house, please? It’s been in the Tippin family for generations!” Jet stroked the scratched doorframes, making small gurgling noises, as if to soothe it back to its slumber.

“Whatever,” huffed Joe, barrelling back out the room and into the lounge room. His fellow removalist slinked after him quickly, but not before uttering “faggots,” under his breath.

Zuko blushed, again. He wasn’t too sure why he was embarrassed, but he was. He turned around again to look at the no longer empty room, right before he heard Jet scream “SUKI!” Zuko lost his footing, turning around quickly to see where the fire was.

“Jet?” asked Zuko confusedly. Jet merely winked his reply.

Suki bounced into the room, a large happy-little-vegemite smile spread across her face. She was still wearing the pumpkin suit, which apparently made it a little hard to enter door frames, so she stayed on the other side of the door. “Yah, hon, what’s up?” she sang.

“The removalist just called us faggots,” he said solemnly.

Her bright blue eyes suddenly darkened and widened, as her luminescent smile contorted and pressed into a sharp thin line. “I hate that word,” she growled through clenched teeth, “which one?”

“The skinnier one,” Jet beamed. Suki marched off, muttering under her breath.

\---

The following minutes had been quite surreal for Zuko. Suki had stormed outside (in her pumpkin suit) and screamed at the removalist until he had started crying. She then forced him to do fifty push-ups, whilst he repeated the phrase “I love the gays,” over and over again. Joe hadn’t bothered to interfere with her grilling; instead he had just continued working, every so often stopping to smoke and shake his head at his teary associate. Real men don’t cry.

“Hey man, sorry about Suki, she just hates the word faggot,” Jet stopped Joe on his way back into the house.

Joe shrugged, “I don’t blame her – it’s a pretty dirty word.”

Jet nodded in agreement. “Hey, can I bum a smoke?”

“That depends, do you smoke 16’s?”

“The manliest smoke in existence? Yes.”

Joe laughed... making the sound of a microphone being dropped to the floor. “Good kid.” He tussled Jets hair and Jet batted his hand away playfully. Suki whipped her head around (it made a lashing noise) and gave Joe a warning glare. Joe surrendered his hands, “Hey now, we were just goofin’.”

“It’s okay Suki,” Jet giggled. Suki nodded with a grunt, and then went back to her business.

Jet turned to Joe, who was looking more and more amused. “Yeah, she can get pretty protective--“

“LOUDER!” Suki screamed at the second removalist, stepping on his neck as he did the next push up.

“I LOVE THE GAYS,” he yelled through exhausted tears.

“Okay Suki, he’s learned his lesson,” called Jet.

“Poof...” she muttered, as she took her foot from his neck and placed it next to his face, “If I catch you saying anything homophobic ever again... I’ll flash you! Jet?”

“She’ll flash you,’ he confirmed.

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Joe seemed pretty warm to the idea.

“Dude, she never gets laid – do you think she bothers shaving anymore?”

“Oh... Ew,” Joe shuddered, “Sounds a lot like my wife. Hairy bitch,” he said through a puff of Marlboro. “She hates me,” he added after a long awkward silence.

“Yeah... I’m going to go play with Zuko,” Jet turned around and gasped. “DUDE! Have you been there this whole time? Seriously, you are stealthy.”

Zuko had indeed been quietly standing behind them, shocked into silence by Suki’s brutality. He’d often been told that he was quieter than death. His father made him wear a cow bell as a child, so he would know if Zuko was lurking in a doorway... which he often did, without really realising.

“Yeah... I just...” he finished his sentence with a shrug.

Jet raised an eyebrow, “Okay. Hey, wanna go play ‘Tits’?”

“What’s ‘Tits’?”

Jet sighed “Oh, Zuko. You have lived a sheltered life. SUKI, WE’RE PLAYING ‘TITS’!!”

“Eh, fine. I’m sick of staring at this piece of crap anyway,” she motioned to the floor, at the drooling mess that was the removalist. She skipped down the drive away merrily, until she tripped and started to roll the rest of the way in her giant orange pumpkin suit.  
Later  
After three hours of intense ‘Tits’, Zuko still had not grasped the concept of the game. The removalists had long since abandoned their work and joined in. How the hell did they understand?

“Tits,” Jet said cautiously.

“Boobs!” Suki screamed.

“Seabiscuit,” Joe said wisely.

There was a sharp intake of breath from everyone in the room – except Zuko – apparently everyone was worried about the next move.

There was a long pause. “Italians,” the second removalist, whose name turned out to be ‘Ephraim’, said carefully.

Everyone seemed content by this answer. They all looked at Zuko.

“... Television?” he asked confusedly.

Jet flung his arms in the air, “NO!” he screamed. Suki looked at Zuko, confused.

“You call it a television?” She asked curiously.

Zuko threw his head back into a pillow. “CALL WHAT A TELEVISION?” Jet sighed, exasperated. “I’m sorry,” Zuko pleaded, “I just don’t get it!”

“Dude, watch us!” Jet soothed Zuko, patting him on the knee.

“Maybe if you just explained the rules to me…” Zuko asked desperately.

Jet looked confused. “That’s against the rules,” he shook his head, clearly Zuko’s question had been a dumb one. He turned to Suki, “Tits,” he said politely.

“Sweater meat,” Suki sighed.

Joe thought for a second. “... Train wreck,” He scoffed.

“Champagne,” Ephraim affirmed.

Everyone paused, a little worried about how Jet was going to pull this one.

“God stick,” Jet held his head high.

Everyone sighed and clapped. Apparently, a great victory had been achieved.

“Geddit Zuko,” Suki tried to say without scowling.

Zuko was too fearful to say that he still didn’t understand. “Uh... Wow, I should really unpack. I need to get my room ready.” Zuko quickly hurried off, to unload the rest of the truck himself.

“Guess we should go help him,” Joe huffed.

“Whose ‘we’? He’s paying YOU for this,” Suki poked Ephraim firmly in the chest.

Ephraim flinched. “Yes ma’am.” He hurried off after Zuko, not daring to make any further eye contact. Suki giggled.

“Homophobes,” Jet and Suki sighed happily in unison.

\---  
Zuko had quickly come to realise that there were no such things as “Personal Space”, “Alone Time” or “Privacy” in this household. The removalists had left in a cloud of thick cigarette smoke and Tits, leaving just Zuko and his boxes, to be poked, prodded and probed by Jet and Suki.

“Nice underwear, Zuko,” Jet cooed.

“Oh c’mon, don’t go through his underwear,” Suki’s voice came from inside one of the larger boxes. She emerged, “Whoa, those are nice underwear! Pass em’ over.”

Zuko was speechless. He rubbed his temples, they felt as if they were about to explode.

“Dude, can I borrow these next time we go out? My underwear are all shit.”

“THEY’RE MY UNDERWEAR,” Zuko exploded. The pressure in his temples was instantly relieved.

Suki and Jet were puzzled. “Okay, no probs,” Jet shrugged.

“Oh, no. I’m sorry,” Zuko managed to stutter out, “you can borrow them, I guess.”

But they were not listening. They had opened another box and dived in to explore its treasures. Zuko was glad that his explosion apparently had no affect on them... wasn’t he?

“I FOUND ZUKO’S PORN!” Suki squeed. Jet, in turn, squeed.

Zuko’s eyes widened and he clutched his chest in horror – why had he not been watching which boxes they were opening? Before he could do, say, or think anything else, Suki had run to the lounge room and put the DVD on, looking frighteningly excited. When Zuko finally came back to earth, Jet was just walking out of the room. He heard the sound – the sound he had heard a billion times, the opening credits to his favourite porno. He peeked his head out of his door; Jet and Suki were sitting cross-legged in front of the TV, faces mere centimeters away from the screen.

The movie started. A minute passed. No one had said anything. Zuko watched intently... waiting for ... well, anything. Then...

“What’s this?” Suki sounded dumbfounded.

“What?” Zuko croaked.

“I think you know,” She said seriously, staring at Zuko with wide eyes.

Zuko was terribly confused. It was obviously a porno, but she knew that from when she screamed “I FOUND ZUKO’S PORN!”

“...No, no I don’t...” Zuko managed to say.

“This is soft-core straight porn for women...” Suki seemed offended.

“Uh... I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Jet... please dispose of this,” Suki said through choked tears. Jet nodded. He took the DVD out and walked passed Zuko, shaking his head as he passed.

“Uh..... I don’t... know what you were expecting,” Zuko was ashamed, but he wasn’t sure why.

“Look Zuko, if you are going to bring porn into this house, it is to be nothing other than hardcore gay porn. Period.”

“Oh,” Good Lord, she was practically a gay man. The poor thing, “well, I don’t have any.”

“Oh, that’s cool!” suddenly she was back to her bubbly self, wide-eyed and smiley, “I got heaps! You see that wall of DVD’s? Yeah... the movies don’t match the covers. Just stay clear of Happy Feet,” she warned, a moment passed, “that one does match the cover.”

“Oh, sure, I understand.”

“On your way,” she dismissed him. Why did Zuko feel so guilty? And why did he allow her to dismiss him? He sighed. He hadn’t even spent a day in this house, and already he was sick and tired.

He flopped back onto his bed. He couldn’t be bothered to unpack anymore. Something hit his stomach, he looked up, Jet was in the doorway.

“Take your woman porn back,” Jet chuckled. Zuko was speechless; he’d never even uttered the word before today. “But make sure you hide it well, lest you want Suki on your case. And for the love of God, please do not hide it under your mattress – that’s where I put stuff I want Suki to find.”

“Yeah, sure,” Zuko muttered – that had actually been his first thought.

“I’m sorry Zuko, I know we’re a far cry from your previous life. Suki can be quite intense.”

“I just need to adjust.”

Jet jumped onto the bed next to Zuko. “Well, take us much time as you need – I’ll try and keep Suki’s crazy at bay, by which I mean, I’ll try and get her laid. The poor thing is practically a gay man – I’m not even sure she remembers how to make actual conversation with straight people anymore.”

Zuko laughed, the sensation was strange, “I was thinking that just before, when she was on her gay porn rant.”

“She really does love her gay porn,” Jet said absently, clearly deep in thought. He snapped out of his thoughts a minute later with a shudder, “anyway, we’re ordering takeout tonight, in celebration of our new roommate. Do you have any preferences?”

“Uh… chinese?”

“Chinese it is then,” Jet smiled. He rubbed Zuko’s shoulder. “Hang in there.”

“Hey, so when do I meet Sokka?”

Jet laughed, “I haven’t seen Sokka in a week.”

“You’re not worried?”

“Oh, I know he comes home, he leaves dishes and the such, I’m just never awake or at home when he does. He’s a murse, he has really long hours… for really low pay. Why anyone would do that job is beyond me. Anyway, dinner soon. I’ll give you some alone time.” Jet winked, and then disappeared out of the room.

Zuko immediately missed his company. He smiled hopefully at his own thought – but frowned inwardly, he hoped to God he wasn’t developing a crush on Jet. Crush’s on roommates seemed like a dangerous affair.

\---

Of the things that Zuko rarely treated himself to, it was never chocolate, nor fast food, nor new clothes, but a nightly shower. Zuko knew this was bad habit, considering he always had one in the morning, and sometimes in the middle of the day – but he just couldn’t resist the sensation of hot water on his skin, warming every part of his body, even the cockles of his heart.

Zuko grabbed the towel from the neat stack he had made in his cupboard and headed to the bathroom. Like all of Zuko’s other possessions, his towels were of very high quality. They were all as soft as cashmere, absorbent as sponges and as warm as a lover’s touch. They even smelt good – like a forest just after it has rained. Zuko ran his hand over the gold insignia in the corner of towel – “Zuko”. He sighed, the knot in his stomach retightened.

He walked out his door and headed down the hall, kicking stray socks and cans of energy drink out of his path. Amazingly enough he didn’t even run into Jet, Suki, or the elusive Sokka that he’d never met.

The bathroom reminded Zuko of the health & beauty section of a really bad corner store – beauty products of all shapes, sizes colours and odours were sprawled across the floor, as well as crammed onto the shelves and in the cupboard behind the mirror. Yet, there was something oddly comfortable about the bathroom, it was soothing, almost calming. It had small blue tiles, each one of a slightly different shade to the ones it surrounded. The warm orange walls actually seemed to compliment the tiles, giving it all around serene beach feeling. Zuko felt like a little piece of him had been restored – he just hoped to god there was hot water.

He made his way to the furthest wall of the moderately-sized bathroom to where the shower was. It was one of those bath/shower deals, complete with a brown curtain caked in mould at its bottom. He sighed, he guessed he couldn’t have his cake and eat it too – he made a mental note to buy a new curtain.

He stripped off his clothes and folded them into a neat pile on the floor. He hung his towel on rack, but first had to push seven other very soggy towels to aside. He reached into the shower and turned the water on, running a hand under the water until it reached a favourable temperate. He stepped in and was surprised to see that the bath floor was surprisingly clean; he guessed Suki had something to do with that – she was a lady, after all.

He sighed, with relief this time, as the hot water passed over his hair, face and body, warming every facet of his being. His world was now gooey and careless. He would stay here until the water went cold, and would not feel guilty about it, he decided. Small victories.

“Oh Jet, you won’t believe the day I ha--,”

Moments like these, however, were meant to be ruined. Zuko, startled, snapped his head toward the voice. Standing half in the bath, at the opposite side, was a very tanned, blue eyed and long haired man. He was naked. Then Zuko remembered that he was naked. He shielded his privates, making a small confused noise.

“Oh hi,” the man said, a little surprised, but nonetheless causal, “you must be our new roommate.”

Zuko was so confused. He was naked and in the shower, why was the other man, who he assumed was Sokka, attempting to make conversation? “Yeah, I’m Zuko,” he replied awkwardly.

“I’m Sokka,” he beamed, stepping fully into the shower and outstretching a hand. Zuko was horrified, where he came from people certainly did not share showers together. Zuko had bathed alone since age two, when his father had instilled in him a sense of shame. Nevertheless, he didn’t want to be rude, he outstretched his hand and stiffy, but very quickly, shook Sokka’s.

“So what’s your story?” Sokka sat down on the edge of the bathtub, leaning his chin on his hands.

Zuko couldn’t help but notice Sokka’s near frighteningly large manhood, which was still swinging between his legs from the movement he had just made. He gulped, then immediately turned around to face the taps.

“Well, I’m done,” Zuko announced a bit too loudly, “I’ll talk to you when you get out, I guess.” He quickly stepped out and grabbed his towel, still red faced from the encounter. He didn’t turn around to see Sokka’s reaction, instead, just hurried out of the bathroom to the safety of his room.

\---

Zuko awoke in a sweat. He had only been asleep for two hours, and he had already had the most horrid dream – he was attempting to escape a pumpkin avalanche, when he landed in a pair of giant breasts, which enveloped him whole... into the setting of a soft-core porno (for women).

He sighed and got up, rubbing his eyes and wandered out of his room; he needed some water.

“TITS,” he heard Sokka yell.

“BOOBS,” he heard Suki screech back.

Zuko sighed and looked at the clock – 12.01 – the next day had begun. But Zuko would not be defeated, plus, he was beginning to think that he was getting the game after all. He walked into the living room.

“Oh hey Zuko,” Jet purred – he looked awfully tired. “Wanna have another crack at it?”

Zuko smiled. “Ginney,” He said confidently.

“NO!”


	2. Zuko, darling, you're doing absolutely everything wrong...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Zuko realises that he has no money and is forced to get a job. Jet's family own a restaurant. The dots connect soon after. Hilarity ensues as Zuko learns that he has absolutely no idea how to do this work thing that Jet keeps prattling on about.

'Alright kids, I’m off to work!' Sokka called as he grabbed an apple from the fridge and adjusted his scrubs. 'If I don’t change those bedpans... well, it won’t really affect anything...” Suki and Jet chuckled, kissing him quickly on either cheek before he disappeared out the front door.  
  
Zuko, Jet and Suki were all sitting around the table; Jet shovelling his breakfast into his mouth, Suki hurriedly and recklessly caking on makeup and Zuko taking small nibbles from his freshly prepared fruit salad. 'So...' Zuko didn’t quite know how to phrase his question, 'You guys all have jobs?'  
  
Suki looked incredulously. 'Yeah, we all have jobs. That’s how we... buy shit.'  
  
'You forget, Suki; Zuko has spent most of his life living above us working class peasants.' Jet said with a grin.  
  
Zuko looked at them guiltily. 'I’m sorry. I’ve just never had to have a job before. I guess I just never needed one...'  
  
Suki scoffed, 'Yeah, that must have been really hard for you!'  
  
'Oh no, that’s-- that’s not what I meant, I just-- I didn’t--,'  
  
'Breathe, Zuko,' Jet cooed, placing a hand on Zuko’s shoulder. 'Hey, you know if you need a job, my family owns a restaurant; I could get you job there.'  
  
Suki laughed. 'Wow Jet, you really want to put him through that? Why don’t you just stab him here--,'  
  
'Humshumhum!!' Jet shushed her violently, turning back to Zuko with a sauve smile. 'As I was saying,' Jet paused to throw a quick glare at Suki, 'I can get you a job at my family’s restaurant as a waiter, no problem.'  
  
'You work there too?' Zuko asked.  
  
Suki laughed (it was more of a boom, really) and Jet smacked her upside the head. She continued laughing. 'Oh yeah, he works there!'  
  
'I’m kinda stuck there. I tried to quit once and my mum tried to kill herself.'  
  
Everyone went quiet. Zuko looked at Jet, Suki looked at Zuko and Jet looked at both of them.  
  
'Seriously.' Jet said gravely.  
  
'I believe you.' Zuko replied quickly.  
  
Jet coughed. 'Anyway, I’m pretty much stuck there, but you can work there for a while until you get on your feet and figure things out.'  
  
'Now, that’s just misleading,' Suki interrupted. 'Jet’s family’s restaurant is a lot like the mafia; once you’re in, you’re in. You’re going to have to start sleeping with one eye open, Zuko.'  
  
***  
  
‘Now, there are a few things that I should warn you about before we start tonight.’  
  
Zuko had never had a job before – he’d never needed one. His family was very privileged and time was better spent studying, respecting elders, fearing his father, and keeping up appearances. So when it finally came to Zuko that he had no money left, Jet suggested that he get a job – actually, he did one better and offered Zuko a job. A job at his family’s restaurant. From what he had gathered from Suki, the restuarant was a small "dingy hole in the wall" crammed between two pubs and a suspicious massage parlour. The restaurant apparently changed ethnicity and menu each year according to Jet's mother's ever changing cultural interests. This year the restaurant served Turkish food. She had apparently even learned the language, forced Jet to the same and hired a bunch of Persians.

‘Is the restaurant actually a brothel?’ Zuko chuckled, he had made a funny.  
  
‘Close, it’s actually a strip joint. How do you feel about leather?’  
  
Zuko laughed. Silence ensued, Jet was looking at him expectantly, head cocked slightly.  
  
‘You’re serious?’ Zuko choked, eyes widening in horror.  
  
‘Nope,’ Jet laughed.  
  
Zuko looked out the window at the passing street lamps. ‘So what should I be worried about?’ Zuko asked flatly, wary of the response he might receive.  
  
‘Oh, a good many things – my mother for starters,’ Jet said seriously, ‘No matter what she says, no matter how ridiculous or infuriating the things she tells you to do, or the things she gets angry about are, arguing will not help. Not in the slightest. She will not listen to you. So don’t even try. Seriously, just don’t. You’ll only make things worse for yourself. Oh, and don’t ever touch the desserts… she gets weird about the desserts.’  
  
‘Fair enough.’ Zuko shrugged, he’d been brought up in a world where elders were respected and feared, so it would’ve gone against every fibre of him to argue with Jet’s mother anyway.  
  
Jet peered at Zuko out of the corner of his eye, ‘I know that look,’ he said wisely, ‘you’re thinking that you wouldn’t dare argue with my mother in the first place. Well, more god-fearing folk than you have tried Zuko… and failed. Miserably.’  
  
‘I’m sure it’ll be okay, Jet.’  
  
Jet snorted. ‘If you have to vent or yell at someone, just yell at me… because I’ll probably need to yell at someone too.’  
  
‘Alright,’ Zuko said nervously.  
  
‘Alright,’ Jet repeated cheerily. ‘I’ll show you what to do when we get there. Basically you’ll just be waiting on people, taking orders, bringing out food, etcetera. Doesn’t sound too hard, aye?’  
  
‘Aye,’ Zuko repeated.  
  
‘Well you’re wrong! You have to keep your wits about you, or those son-of-bitch customers will murder you with their words! Not to mention the kitchen staff, they’ll murder you with their tongs!’  
  
Zuko went cold. Maybe he should have applied for a job in a book store or something...  
  
‘Okay, here we are!’ Jet pulled into a small car park, littered with old tyres and cans of Red Bull. Jammed in between two giant sheds was a small grubby white door and an overflowing wheelie bin. Jet got out of the car, waiting for Zuko to do the same before he locked the car and chained it to a nearby pole. Jet headed toward the door. Zuko sighed; he was hoping that they were heading for one of the clean looking sheds.  
  
***  
  
Jet kicked open the kitchen door, it creaked the whole way open until it finally shuddered to a stop. The kitchen looked small, in all dimensions – especially width. On the right was a small grill and a large oven, and on the left was a long bench atop of a very long fridge. Dividing left from right was another long bench, stacked dangeously high with plates and meat.  
  
In the corner, scraping the grill was rather petite woman with large brown hair. There was a huge butt sticking out of the fridge on the left side of kitchen, and finally, chopping up some green vegetables on a bench in front of the oven was a small, tired looking woman, wearing black tights, platform shoes and a leopard skin dress.  
  
‘Okay,’ Jet whispered, ‘the massive ass sticking out of the fridge belongs to Mufti. It’s not her actual name, but it’s much easier to say. She is the most useless woman ever. Try and avoid making eye contact with her and definitely do not rely on her for anything. Oh, and don’t try and move past her… that’ll end badly.’  
  
‘No problems,’ Zuko said unsteadily.  
  
‘The girl at the grill is my cousin, Toph. She’s a massive dyke and manlier than most men. Oh, and she’s blind. OH! And fucking hilarious!’ Jet giggled.  
  
‘I can hear you praising me,’ Toph boomed from the grill. Zuko was startled, they were whispering, how did she hear?  
  
‘She also has spooky blind-girl hearing.’  
  
‘One of many talents,’ she breathed melodically, ‘apart from being a dyke, I heard that bit too. I’ll be kicking yo’ ass next time you introduce me as a “massive dyke”, Jet.’  
  
Jet blushed, ‘Sorry Toph.’  
  
‘Yeah, you’re sorry. I never introduce you as a massive fag.’  
  
The tired looking woman sighed. ‘I’m supposed to be on a date with my husband tonight, instead I’m stuck here with you morons.’  
  
‘We love you Moira,’ Jet made puppy dog eyes.  
  
‘Aw, I love you too,’ she said, though her expression didn’t change. ‘Now make salad,’ she commanded, ‘we’re booked out tonight.’ She looked at Zuko for the first time, ‘who’s this?’  
  
‘This is Zuko, he’s our new waiter.’  
  
‘Tell him to set the tables.’  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, Zuko saw the rest of the ass pull itself out of the fridge. The woman was ancient, possibly already dead. She had very greasy, stringy hair, which was tied in a loose saggy bun at the back of her pumpkin-shaped head. She was short, and also very wide. It was a wonder that she actually fit into the kitchen in the first place. She had a weird look on a face, a cross between a smile and the beginning of a sneeze… and she was looking right at Zuko. Zuko looked away, but still felt her stare eating into the side of his head.  
  
Jet picked up a bottle full of five cent coins and shook it at her. She grunted, before retreating back into the fridge. ‘What did I tell you about making eye contact?’ Jet whispered into Zuko’s ear harshly. Toph cracked up laughing.  
  
‘Darling. Tables,’ Moira said with a drawn-out sigh.  
  
“Let’s get to it,” Jet saluted Moira, “Oh by the way, good luck tonight.”  
  
“TABLES! SALAD!”  
  
“Okay, we’re going,” Jet cowered.  
  
They moved out to the restaurant floor. It was a long room, crammed wall to wall with far too many tables, antique furniture and lamps. Tonnes of lamps. “That was Moira by the way. She kinda runs the show... without actually running the show if that makes sense. She kinda does it behind my mother’s back. It’s the only way she really can.”  
  
“I’m not sure I understand?”  
  
Jet shrugged. “I rarely understand anything my mother does. You have to know that while things make sense to no one else, it makes sense to her, I guess. Once you meet her you might have some sort of understanding.... that’s a big maybe though.’  
  
“DARLING!” Came a soft, yet affirmed voice from the back corridor.  
  
“Ugh, look alive Zuko, here she comes.”  
  
“Jet, darling, you stacked the soft drink cartons wrong. Why did you do that? You shouldn’t have done it like that.” Jet’s mother was... well, she commanded a heavy presence. She was a tall woman with cropped curly hair, a square jaw and sharp brown eyes. She wore a black leather coat and appeared to be carrying atleast seven handbags and a carton of wine.  
  
“Well how should I have done it then, Ma?’ Jet rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth.  
  
“Differently,” she strode into the kitchen, unloading the carton of wine off her shoulder on to the bar. She shook her head in the process and pursed her lips as though Jet had just called her a bitch or something.  
  
“Ma, what’s in there?” Jet asked; a bit confused considering they’d stocked up on wine yesterday.  
  
“Oh nothing, we’re going to keep yesterday’s bread in here and sell it next door for $1.20.” She answered him, as if Jet’s question was absolutely ridiculous.  
  
“I don’t think the pub wants yesterday’s bread,” Jet shook his head, dismayed by her illogicalness.  
  
“No, I meant the--,”  
  
“And I don’t think the other pub wants it either.”  
  
“Well--,”  
  
“Neither does the Chinese restaurant.”  
  
“Shut up!” She said softly, gracefully raised a hand as if physically pushing away Jet's words. She disappeared into the kitchen. There was some loud squabbling between Moira and Jet’s mother, in a language unfamiliar to Zuko.  
  
Jet sighed. “Okay, well, I’ll show you how to set the tables.”  
  
Zuko was a little nervous by the squabbling. “Jet, are they arguing? It’s getting quite loud.”  
  
“Nah, that’s just how they talk.”  
  
“It really sounds like they’re arguing.”  
  
“They’re not arguing.”  
  
“What are they saying, then?”  
  
“They’re talking about salad.” Zuko got the feeling that salad was a precious commodity in this place; as was bread and antique furniture. There was a loud crash from the kitchen as the squabbling got louder.  
  
Zuko eyed the kitchen door, before turning back to Jet. “Are you sure they’re not arguing? It really sounds like--”  
  
“I’m telling you, they’re not arguing,” Jet repeated firmly. Then came the sound of Moira and Jet’s mother laughing loudly – it was reminiscent of nails on a chalkboard.  
  
“Wow, they’re laughing.”  
  
“I told you they weren’t arguing.” Jet shrugged and showed him over to a dusty cabinet full off all the essentials for table setting – spoons, forks, sporks, knives and napkins.  
  
“Now when you fold the napkins, make sure the border faces the edge. It’s unbelievable how many people can’t do it properly.”  
  
“Like this?” Zuko folded the napkin diagonally keeping the border on the edge.  
  
“Well, that’ll have to do I suppose.” Jet sighed, shaking his head in dismay when he thought Zuko wasn’t watching.  
  
How could Zuko have done it any better? He sighed inwardly. Working was hard.  
  
***  
  
 _It’s in the water baby; it’s in the pills that bring you down._  
 _It’s in the water baby; it’s in your bag of golden brown._  
 _It’s in the water baby; it’s in your frequency._  
 _It’s in the water baby; it’s between you and me._  
  
Zuko had the oddest song stuck in his head; he wasn’t sure where he had heard it or how he knew most of the lyrics, but it was definitely there – filling every corner of his mind, which really didn’t leave much room for free thought.  
  
The past four hours had been very near an absolute blur to Zuko. Time had kind of run together in all of the chaos – that is, all the screaming in the kitchen, the screaming out on the floor, and Jet’s mum screaming at Jet at the bar. Zuko had made so many mistakes. He dropped scolding hot tea on a customer, persistently forgot the give customers any cutlery and accidently made a blind joke in front of Toph – she was petite but quite solid.  
  
“ZUKO! DID YOU TAKE KOFTE TO B2?” Jet screamed from behind the oven.  
  
“I don’t know what that means,” Zuko thought he could cry at that moment. He was just so disillusioned by all the yelling. He didn’t know what was directed at him half the time, especially since they were all speaking in tongues.  
  
“JET!” Moira screamed, “MAKE SALAD!”  
  
“IM BUSY!” Jet screamed back, barging past Mufti, knocking her very slowly, but surely, head first into the sink. She grunted and burped -- it bubbled in the water.  
  
Zuko looked over at Moira, she was trapped between Jet’s mum, who was furiously stacking Baklava on top of chocolate – there was something intent about what she was doing, apparently she was the only one who could do that properly – and Toph, who was stabbing charcoal of the grill. Moira was waving her hands pleadingly in the air, at someone… anyone, Zuko guessed. “SALAD! SALAD, SALAD, SALAD! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, SOMEONE MAKE SALAD!”  
  
Mufti grunted, and headed over to the salad container. “NOT YOU!” Moira screamed.  
  
“I’ll do it,” Zuko said softly.  
  
“WHAT DID YOU SAY?” Moira screamed to the heavens.  
  
“I’ll… I’ll make the salad.”  
  
“Oh… Good. A2.”  
  
“A2?”  
  
Moira clicked her tongs at Zuko in response. For some reason, Mufti took that to mean something else and tried to take them from Moira for an unknown reason that perhaps made sense in her head. Moira screeched, grabbed a spatula and started beating Mufti away from her.  
  
“Darling, we work as a team in the restaurant, which is why you must learn to do everything alone,” Jet’s mum said in passing, before she started screaming something in Turkish.  
  
“It’s my first day,” Zuko sobbed, “no one has taught me how to do anything yet.”  
  
Toph laughed, “I think he’s going to cry.”  
  
Moira made a small noise in agreement. Jet appeared from below, appearing to have just crawled out from the beneath the oven.  
  
“Jet?”  
  
“Yeah, the oven stopped working. I had to jam a broom in the bottom. Don’t touch it! It’s holding everything togeth--- SHIT! DRINKS!” Jet quickly sprinted out of the kitchen, diving into the bar. “FUCK! NO ICE!”  
  
“Darling, watch your language,” Jet’s mum clicked her tongue and pursed her lips, “the customer’s will hear.”  
  
Jet’s face turned a violent shade of deep purple. He muttered something incoherent. “Zuko can you please get ice?”  
  
“From where?” Zuko wasn’t sure he wanted to know.  
  
“Up ya’ bum,” Jet cracked, doubling over in a fit, and smacking his leg.  
  
He wasn’t quite sure how to react. “Sorry, I’m a little delirious. We get our ice from the bar up the street. Just ask for Ruth and say you’re from here, she’ll take care of you.”  
  
“Oh, okay.”  
  
“HURRY BACK,” Moira screamed, “SOMEONE HAS TO MAKE THE SALAD!”  
  
Mufti grunted. Moira shook the can at her… Mufti shuffled away nervously.  
  
***  
  
Zuko walked cautiously into the dubiously named bar – the “Shut Up  & Pour”. Well, it was a less a bar, as it was a seedy tavern. It was big and dim, with a very long bar stretching nearly the whole way down the left wall. Zuko could see that there only four people sitting around one table. They were cackling over their Guinness, one of them spat on the floor. Zuko was horrified, he immediately checked the floor below, just to make sure he wasn’t treading on spit. All clear.  
  
“You lost, hon?” One of them called. It was the only female out of the four. She had short, red curly hair, which was just beginning to fade. Her sunken eyes bore years of alcohol service, that is, they were full of wisdom and had turned a deep shade of yellow. She wore a loose-knit sweater, faded baggy jeans, which tucked into creased brown leather boots.  
  
“Uh… Ruth?”  
  
“Yeah, that’s me. Who’s askin’? You a cop?” Her eyes narrowed, as she examined his face.  
  
“Uh… no, I … uh work at the Turkish restaurant down the street.”  
  
“Oh!” her face immediately warmed, “Come through hon, come though.” With one arm on his back, she ushered him to the bar, where she sat him down on one of the stools. “You’ve got that look of fear in your eyes, are you new?”  
  
“Yeah, it’s my first night.”  
  
“Aw. Bless your heart, you’ll figure it out, they always do.”  
  
“They?”  
  
“Oh, many before you have come in here with that exact same look. Have you argued with Jet’s mother yet?”  
  
Zuko looked quizzically at her – why did she refer to her as Jet’s mother? He was starting to think no one actually knew her name. “Jet warned against it,” Zuko said softly.  
  
Ruth laughed. “Ah yes, Jet. That kid’s got a sweet little ass on him...” Zuko blushed, she made a satisfied noise and drifted off for a second. “So what can I do for ya’, sweets?”  
  
“I need ice?”  
  
“Not a worry, follow me.” Ruth led him into a small room just behind the bar. Crammed amongst a small grill and a giant fridge was a rather large and silver ice machine, which was humming a disturbingly high volume. “Just take as much you need, hon. That thing just craps ice every 13 minutes, and I only really need it at the end of the night, to throw on the passed out drunks.  
  
“Okay,” Zuko said tensely – Ruth was a bit overbearing. He wrinkled his nose, at the smell of… sulfur?  
  
Ruth saw this and laughed. “Mind the gas containers, I know they smell like fart in a bottle, but I assure you that no one has farted in here, except Steve the maintenance man… filthy Steve. Filthy.” She drifted off again, with another satisfied noise, before drifting out of the room, clearly lost in her own thoughts.  
  
Zuko scooped as much as the bags would take, before walking back out into the bar area.  
  
“Thanks, Ruth,” he called.  
  
“Anytime, hon. Oh, and you tell Jet to get his sweet ass up here when he’s finished. I got something for him.” She made yet another satisfied noise, but didn’t have time to get lost in thought, as she had to hit one of the drunks with a broom, who was attempting to steal a salt shaker. “Hey, hey, put that the fuck down.”  
  
Zuko exited quickly.  
  
***  
  
Zuko came back through the doors of restaurant, where he immediately heard the words ‘ice’ and ‘salad’ being screamed concurrently, by at least four different people. He heard a grunt, followed by Moira screaming, followed the sound of five cent pieces being jangled… followed finally by a displeased grunt.  
  
Zuko raced to the bar, “Jet, I got ice,” he said hurriedly.  
  
“THANK GOD! THOSE BITCHES ON B4 KEEP STARING AT ME EXPECTANTLY.” He leaned over the counter, glaring at them furiously, “WHAT? IT’S ON ITS WAY!” The customers looked back down at their plates, scared and grateful.  
  
“Darling, You didn’t charge that table for their bottle of wine when they paid.” Jets mother said in a soft, yet highly displeased tone.  
  
“What bottle of wine?” Jet snapped at her.  
  
“I gave them a bottle of wine!” She said matter-of-factly.  
  
“It wasn’t on the docket!” He replied angrily.  
  
“I know, I didn’t write it down.” She said, again as though it was obvious.  
  
“Why not?”  
  
“I don’t have time, I’m busy.”  
  
“So am I, and I still manage to find time for writing dockets. Because they are a necessity! How can I charge them for a bottle of wine if it’s not on the docket? How do you expect me to know about it if you don’t write it down?” Jet was not doing a good job of keeping his cool.  
  
“You should ask me.” She said simply.  
  
“I don’t have time! And it should be on the docket! And I can’t even find you half the time!” Jet exploded.  
  
“Shut up.” And she was gone. Jet fumed and furiously directed Zuko to the task of collecting empty dishes from tables. Jet headed to the kettle to make tea, sorting teacups on trays and putting tea in the teapot, ready for boiled water.  
  
“Darling, you shouldn’t make the teas like that.”  
  
Jet went rigid. “How could I possibly be doing this wrong, Ma?”  
  
Jet’s mother ‘tsk’d’ and pursed her lips, gently pushing Jet out of the way and placing herself in his position. “Move, I’ll do it.”  
  
Jet stared at the back of her head for a minute, growling quietly, and then stormed outside motioning for Zuko to follow him. Zuko did so, not wanting to trifle with Jet. Jet positioned himself in front of all the dockets, preparing to go over everything with Zuko.  
  
“Ok, they’ve had everything, they’ve had their entree’s, they’re waiting for their entree’s, they’re waiting for their kebabs, they’ve had everything, they’ve had everything, they’re waiting for their mains...”  
  
Zuko nodded along, hoping that Jet would somehow manage to hold his sanity together. He felt that he wouldn’t have a clue what to be doing without Jet’s direction. Jet finished and took a deep breath.  
  
Zuko looked at Jet for a moment, worried. “... Jet, are you ok? You’re not blinking...”  
  
“I’d better go check on those teas.” He headed back to the kettle, however his mother was no-where to be seen. Jet looked around to then see her on the other side of the kitchen. He groaned loudly.  
  
“Ma, did you make those teas?” He asked pointedly.  
  
“What teas?” She replied absently.  
  
Jet breathed heavily. Zuko escorted him back to the kettle, where Jet quietly continued to make teas and directed Zuko to continue clearing plates. As Zuko worked, he couldn’t help but notice a large group of uncomfortable looking people, who hadn’t been there before, now seated at a table that was far too small for them and also happened to be reserved. Zuko rushed back into the kitchen to consult with Jet, however the matter was already being dealt with.  
  
“Darling, where’s the entrées for the group of fourteen.”  
  
Jet went scarily quiet; Zuko supposed that he was too tired to yell. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. “What group of fourteen?” he asked calmly.  
  
“I seated them when you were making those teas.”  
  
Jet opened his eyes, breathed deeply and looked back up at her with a smile “Where could you possibly have seated them?”  
  
“The round table at the back.”  
  
“That table seats, at maximum, five people. Why. Would. You. Seat. Them. There. I told you that we were booked to our limit tonight.”  
  
“No we’re not, darling.”  
  
“That table is reserved, Ma. I told you that. I told you we don’t have room for any more walk-ins.” Jet was clearly using every ounce of self-control to not go berserk.  
  
“If they finish before 8:00, then we can clear the table and set it for the booking.”  
  
“How is that ever going to happen? It’s 7:30! When the booking shows up, what the hell do you expect me to say to them?”  
  
“Shut up,” she said calmly, raising her hand before gliding out the kitchen door.  
  
Zuko turned his attentions back to Jet, whose eyes were closed. He no longer seemed to be conscious, as he stood there with his hand on his forehead, breathing deeply. A minute passed, but still he had not awoken for his deathly slumber.  
  
“MUFTI!” Moira’s voice broke through the wall, waking Jet from his catatonic state.  
  
“I honestly don’t know what to do,” Jet babbled to himself, as he began making drinks with the newly retrieved ice, “we’re booked to our limit. There’s just no room for them. Moira isn’t going to make a banquet for them. Toph wants to go home – it’s her date night. It’s Moira’s date night. I want a date night. Why does she do this to me? I’m a good person, I’m a good waiter, I’m a good son, why doesn’t she listen to me? We’re booked to our limit. She told me she understood. How could she possibly seat fourteen people at a table for five? I told her that table was booked for someone else. It’s a Saturday night. If you bring fourteen people to a restaurant on Saturday night, without a booking, you run the risk of not getting a table. My dear mother should realise this. She must.” Jet finished the drinks, still babbling as he walked on to the floor to serve them.  
  
Zuko forgot what was happening for a second; just a little weirded out by Jet’s nonsensical babbling.  
  
  
***  
  
The restaurant had very nearly emptied – all that was left was a particularly fussy table of two. With each departure of a table, Jet’s sanity began to claw its way back. He now remembered his own name again – which was definitely a positive.  
  
Moira had run out the door long ago, when she had finally finished cooking the last order. Jet’s mum hadn’t returned, after she had left hours ago in a flurry of bad management and chaos. Toph had her feet up on the small wooden couch, opposite the bar. Jet and Zuko were drying glasses in a daze.  
  
“Alright dudes, I’m off. My lady’s waiting for me at home; it’s our game night.” Toph said with a stretch.  
  
“What kind of game night?” Zuko asked innocently. Toph just smiled mischievously and winked her reply. Zuko blushed, Jet laughed.  
  
“Have a good one Toph!” Jet called.  
  
This left Jet and Zuko alone in the restaurant; the tables had been cleaned and set with napkins, knives and forks. All that was left were the glasses. Jet went in to the bar to stack wine glasses on the rack and then came up behind Zuko, resting his head on Zuko’s back with a drawn out sigh.  
  
“Do you want to go for a drive after this?” He asked. Zuko turned around, nervous; he didn’t know what Jet meant by that.  
  
“A drive?” He asked, trying to seem nonchalant.  
  
“I usually like to drive to the park after work, have a smoke and think about what a shit night I had.” Jet said, breaking his first smile in what seemed like forever. “It get’s cold and it kind of smells like wet dog there, but I like it. You’ll like it too, come on!”  
  
“Uh, I don’t know... It’s getting kind of late...” Zuko said, doubtful.  
  
“Well, you’re gonna have to because I drove you here, suckah!” Jet said, cackling and making a rude hand gesture.  
  
Zuko just stared. Jet stared back.  
  
“... I’m sorry, I don’t know why I did that...” Jet said quickly.  
  
“That’s alright, you’ve had a long night, I’ll let it go for now,” Zuko answered.  
  
“I appreciate that.” Jet said.  
  
Zuko suddenly remembered. “Oh, but before we go, that lady at the bar--“  
  
Jet smiled. “Ruth? Yeah, we have a bit of a ritual after my shifts, we’ll head over once we’re done here...”  
  
***  
  
“Ruth?” Jet called to the whole of the “Shut Up & Pour”. Zuko looked down nervously, as Jet led him through the brawl and drawl, of what seemed like a hundred drunken sailors. Ruth was at the bar serving drinks when she spotted him.  
  
“Jet, you beautiful thing! Turn around and let me see that beautiful thing!”  
  
Jet beamed and spun around, lifting the back of his shirt, exposing his butt. Ruth slapped and rubbed it as she cackled manically. Jet just laughed whilst Zuko watched in fear.  
  
“Oh, Jet,” She sighed, “you keep me young. How was work?”  
  
“Oh, y’know... I really need a smoke right now...” Jet replied.  
  
Ruth turned to Zuko. “And you, love, how was your first night?”  
  
Zuko just stared.  
  
“... Yeah, sound’s about right.” Ruth laughed, and then leaned in to whisper to Jet. “So what’s the deal with this kid? You hitting that?”  
  
Jet smiled, a little embarrassed... but only a little. “Oh, Ruth... We live together, that’d be awkward...”  
  
“Hey, I always say that it’s only an issue if you make it an issue... Besides, he’s a pretty fine thing himself...”  
  
“I’m not denying that, I’m just saying...”  
  
“Jeez, Jet, live a little, so that I can live it vicariously through you!”  
  
“I will think about it.” Jet said, humouring her.  
  
“Good, that’s all I’m asking. Now get outta here, I got-- WHAT THE FUCK DID I TELL YOU BEFORE ABOUT TAKING MY SALTSHAKERS?”  
  
Jet and Zuko exited quickly.  
  
***  
  
Jet and Zuko arrived at the park. Jet slammed on the breaks, pulled into the dirt and then quickly ripped the keys from the ignition and danced over to the swing-set. Zuko would’ve found that odd, had he not just spent a good majority of the night warding off a fat woman with a bottle of coins. He stepped out of the car and made his way to Jet, who was sitting on one of the swings, violently coercing his lighter to make fire.  
  
Zuko sat on the swing next to Jet.  
  
“Wasn’t so bad, was it?” Hope ran thick in Jet’s tone.  
  
“It was… not terrible.”  
  
Jet laughed guiltily, “It’s not usually that bad, that much I promise. It was just a frightfully busy night, and it didn’t help that Mufti was there, getting in everyone’s way and creating unholy smells.”  
  
Dots connected – there was definitely a smell in that kitchen that he was not able to account for, and now he knew.  
  
Jet growled at the lighter, shaking it aggressively up and down.  
  
“Are you right?” Zuko thought Jet looked awfully angry.  
  
“Yes,” he said through gritted teeth, “I just need a smoke to calm my nerves, but this fucking lighter won’t light!”  
  
“Give me a try,” Zuko offered.  
  
“The day a hardcore non-smoker, like yourself, is able to draw the final breath out of a lighter better than me, is the day that Suki starts liking straight porn.” Jet smirked, a devilish glint in his eyes.  
  
“Fair enough,” Zuko breathed.  
  
“Ah-ha!” Jet quickly sucked the life out of the newly formed flame through his cigarette. “Oh yeah, I can feel the pain melt away.”  
  
“Are you sure that’s not your lungs?” Zuko snickered.  
  
“Who cares, it feels awesome,” Jet replied euphorically, throwing the empty lighter into the bush. Zuko made a mental note to retrieve it before they left. “So what do you think of my park?” Jet muttered whilst exhaling smoke.  
  
“Your park?”  
  
“It’s got my name on it,” Jet winked.  
  
Zuko didn’t doubt him, he thought he knew Jet well enough to know that if he said that “It’s got his name on it”, then it must physically have his name carved into something. “I’ll take your word for it,” Zuko smiled.  
  
“You needn’t,” Jet yawned, “you’re sitting on my name.” Zuko stood up and looked at the swing seat – Jet’s name had been permanently marked in large bubble writing. Jet smiled proudly.  
  
“Yeah, your park isn’t bad.”  
  
“I try and come here every night after work. It’s a bit out of the way, but I like it here.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“I met my first real boyfriend here,” Jet’s tone was a mixture of nostalgic and … pained?  
  
“Who was he?”  
  
“He…,” Jet took another drag of his smoke, and then sighed, a look of wonder burnt into his eyes. “He used to be my life, now he’s not.” he finally uttered. “Doesn’t matter… that chapter in my life ended long ago.”  
  
Zuko found he was staring at Jet. He was staring at a depth that he hadn’t seen before. Zuko on some level was, well, shocked. Certainly, Zuko knew that Jet had a past – as did everybody – but he failed to really recognise it with Jet. Zuko, up to this point, had only seen Jet as his happy-go-lucky, slightly flirty, joyous roommate. Jet was clearly hurt by this man, whoever he was.  
  
Zuko took a breath in. “What happened?”  
  
Jet looked at Zuko; his eyes were wide and glassy. He managed an awkward half-smile and shook his head just a little, indicating that he didn’t want to talk about it. He turned away, staring back up into space as swung slightly and took breaths of his smoke.  
  
“So, mum asked if you could work tomorrow as well – it’s not going to be as busy, but still fairly hectic.”  
  
“Um,” Zuko processed the quick transition, “sure. I do really need the money.”  
  
“Good, because I hate to tell you this, but Suki was right – once you’re in, you’re in.” Jet laughed. Zuko chuckled a little – he wasn’t too sure if that was a good thing. “It’ll get better, don’t worry.”  
  
“I can’t do anything properly.” Zuko said stiffly, “Plus, I don’t think anyone likes me in there.”  
  
Jet rolled his eyes, “Moira will warm to you, as your competence grows. Toph already likes you. Mufti… well, who gives a shit?”  
  
“What about your mother?”  
  
Jet smirked, “I’m not even sure she likes me. Seriously though, you will get better. Everyone starts out bad.”  
  
“Oh Jet, I was so bad tonight. I was terrible.”  
  
Jet laughed, leaning over to rest his head on Zuko’s shoulder. “Yeah, you were.”  
  
“Thanks Jet,” Zuko stiffened slightly from the unexpected contact.  
  
“No probs, Lo—Zuko.” At that, Jet sat up again and sighed.  
  
Lo—Zuko? Jet obviously just corrected himself, but what was he correcting? Zuko wasn’t sure he cared at the moment. Jet’s head on his shoulder was arousing an odd feeling from within. Trust? A crush? Friendship? Love? Zuko hadn’t the foggiest, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever felt any of them before. But he did feel warm – warm in the cold, dead of night, with Jet on shoulder.


	3. i like you so much better when you're naked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suki has a sex date with Haru and she'll be dammed if Jet is going to ruin it. In which Zuko realises that he can't cook 10 minutes after he starts cooking.

Ever since he was five Zuko (and his sister) had abided by a strict schedule. Days began at 0600h sharp and consisted of pre-planned and authorised daily activities, followed eventually by bed at not one stroke past 2100h. Zuko had lived by that routine for nearly two decades. It had become a part of his very soul, which is why he still found it impossible to wake up any later than 0600h, even though he no longer had to fear reprocussion or consequence from his Father. 0600h. 6:00am. Not a minute more, not a minute less.  
  
Zuko had been a little shocked when he found out that the usual starting time for Jet and Suki was, quote “noon-ish”. Sokka worked such unusual hours that Zuko sometimes found that just as he was waking up, Sokka was coming home. Zuko quickly adjusted however, actually finding Jet and Suki’s odd sleep patterns a compliment to his daily routine.  
  
The house was practically dead before noon, which allowed Zuko to indulge in some alone and personal time. He would make breakfast, peruse the newspaper, go for a run, have a shower, clean the house, talk to his uncle and sometimes catch-up on some reading. After all this, he would still usually have about an hour and a half before Jet emerged from his room – lungs rumbling for a cigarette. The only variable in Zuko’s morning routine was Sokka. Poor Sokka – sometimes he would come home, or leave for work, looking like he had just been mowed down by a bus.  
  
Noon was now approaching, Zuko, who had just had the most productive morning was stood in kitchen cutting up fruit for his lunch and mulling over the weekly budget that he had just planned. The sound of a door slamming open echoed through the hallway, followed by many thunderous footsteps in very quick succession. Sokka appeared from around the corner, one arm sticking out of the neck of his scrubs top. He picked an apple out of Zuko’s hand and stuck it in his mouth before frantically adjusting his clothes.  
  
“You want me to make you something?” Zuko offered pleasantly.  
  
“Gno thime!” Sokka yelled, now with both his arms through his sleeves, his head in the shirt and the apple in his mouth.  
  
“I could make you some coffee...”  
  
“No time!” Sokka now had his scrubs top on properly and the apple in his hand. He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and his of packet cigarettes from the dining table, before running in a circle and diving out of the kitchen.  
  
“You sure?” Zuko called after him, concerned for Sokka’s constant flurried mental state. On some level, Zuko felt some sort of weird responsibility for ensuring Sokka’s continued existence – by feeding him, mainly. Zuko was afraid that he was turning into the mother of the house – for god sake, he had vacuumed, mopped and ironed this morning. Did anyone else help him? God forbid someone should appreciate him and what he does all day... he guessed he just had too much time on his hands. Things would pick up once he resumed classes again, Zuko ensured to himself.  
  
“There’s no time!” Sokka screamed from the front door. Zuko turned his attention back to his fruit salad. _Oh yes_ , he thought proudly, _this is going to be one satisfying salad._ Jet’s door creaked open slowly. Moments later, Jet emerged dressed only in his boxers. His hair was wild and tangled like an abstract painting, and his eyes were cloudy and crusted with sleep. He scratched his head as he meandered sleepily toward the kitchen. Sokka reappeared through the kitchen door, barrelling down Jet’s path, nearly knocking him over before leaping back into his room. Jet made a sound of aggravation, but he stayed his course.  
  
“Morning,” Zuko chirped.  
  
“Why are you so happy?” Jet’s tone was bitter and full of irritation. Jet recently figured out that Zuko was a morning person. Sure, Jet always awoke to a fully-dressed and groomed Zuko, in the kitchen, preparing some sort of food for lunch – but he had no idea that Zuko had been awake for six hours prior to that. He’d always just assumed that Zuko had woken up twenty minutes before himself, or something like that. Jet despised morning people, but not as much as he hated people who ate fruit for lunch.  
  
“Do I need a reason?” Zuko asked.  
  
Jet muttered something incoherent before lighting a cigarette. Zuko waved the smoke from his face. Jet moved away from Zuko and cracked a smile. “Sorry, I keep forgetting.”  
  
With that, Sokka came hurrying back out of his room with his backpack on one shoulder and his shoes in his hands. He threw them on the floor and stepped into them.  
  
“See you later!" He called.  
  
“If I’m not sleeping!” Jet called back. Zuko had finished with his fruit salad and had seated himself at the kitchen table with a glass of juice and a book. Jet looked at him and chuckled, taking in a drag of his cigarette. Zuko noticed Jet looking at him and paused, fork halfway to his mouth.  
  
“What?” He asked.  
  
“You’re so pretty.” Jet smiled adoringly. Zuko laughed nervously and turned his attention back to the piece of melon on his fork. Suki’s bedroom door flew open.  
  
“Would you guys pipe down; do you have any idea what time it is?!” She boomed. Zuko tried not to laugh; she did look quite funny; hair stuck up on one side, eyes squinting from the sunlight, baggy shirt hanging off her shoulder, exposing her left boob.  
  
“Suki, its noon.” Jet said as though it were obvious. Suki’s eyes widened.  
  
“.... SHIT! I have to be at uni in half an hour! FUCK!” Suki spun back into her room, slamming the door behind her. Eight seconds later she emerged again. “Screw it, I can afford to miss one tutorial.” She flopped on the couch. Jet laughed.  
  
“Suki, you sleep in every time you have this tutorial.” Jet said.  
  
“Eh, it’s just Biology. I’ll wing it.”  
  
“So, what’s your plan for today?” Jet asked her.  
  
Suki shrugged. “Might call Haru; haven’t seen him in a while.”  
  
“UGH!” Jet groaned loudly. “I hate Haru!”  
  
“You wouldn’t hate him so much if you were the one who got to have sex with him.”  
  
“Well I don’t get to have sex with him, so yeah, basically, I hate his guts.”  
  
Zuko looked up quizzically. “Who’s Haru?”  
  
Jet turned to face him. “Suki’s incredibly boring boyfriend.”  
  
“He’s not boring!” Suki said, obviously trying to find a way to defend from Jet’s accusation. “He’s just… mellow.”  
  
“He’s boring!” Jet stated firmly. “Last year when we did Secret Santa’s, do you know what he got me? Paperclips! For God’s sake, Zuko’s more interesting than he is!”  
  
Suki and Jet both turned to look at Zuko who appeared to have noticed a cherry pip on the floor. “Oh, a cherry pip, I’d better put that in the bin... Oh, right, there’s no bin...” Zuko stood in the middle of the kitchen, not quite sure what to do with the cherry pip. He put it in his pocket – he would throw it out later. Jet turned back to Suki.  
  
“You see that right there? That was way more interesting than anything has Haru ever done, ever.”  
  
Suki stared at Jet, her eyes boiling red with fury. “Listen up you little sissy: you will be nice to him, and do you know why? Because if you scare him off, and I stop getting laid… I will cut your face up so bad THAT THE ONLY WAY YOU’LL BE ABLE TO SUCK DICK IS THROUGH YOUR EAR!!!”  
  
Jet was cowering under the table, lighter at the ready, just in case Suki attacked. Zuko, who had been wiping up cherry pip residue off the floor was now half hiding behind the bench in fear.  
  
Suki looked at the both of them, her eyes twitching wildly. “We’re all gonna have dinner tonight. And everything will go well. And then I’ll get to have sex. And everything will be awesome. Just PEACHY!”  
  
Jet squeaked.  
  
“Now go to the shops and buy something to cook for dinner! You will cook and it will taste good and I will make myself hot and then eat it and be pretty and sex will ensue!” Suki brandished a wooden spoon at Jet, who was now half warding her off with a chair.  
  
“The only thing I know how to make is macaroni and cheese… and it’s never very good…” Jet stuttered.  
  
“I’ve seen the cooks at my father’s place working, maybe I could… I don’t know… copy what they did from memory…?” Zuko offered timidly.  
  
Suki glared at them. “Yeah… do that…” She said in a low threatening growly voice.  
  
Zuko leaned in to Jet. “Why does she need to go to so much effort? Why don’t they just… you know, do it?” He whispered.  
  
“Because Haru is pretty much a woman with a penis;” Jet whispered back. “He has to be wooed, pampered and seduced with lavender scented candles and a Celine Dion album.”  
  
Zuko suppressed a laugh. “Why doesn’t she just go to a restaurant?” The wooden spoon flew past his head.  
  
“I’m POOR!!” Suki screeched, then whirled around and headed back to her room humming Celine Dion to herself. Zuko and Jet exchanged looks.  
  
“She was so normal just before…” Zuko was indeed amazed at how quickly she had transitioned from sleepy to crazy and horny bitch.  
  
“Sex, Zuko.” Apparently that answered everything.  
\---  
  
The ride to the supermarket had been quite a silent one on Jet and Zuko’s part. It wasn’t at all an awkward silence; not only was the majority of the silence being taken up by the radio, but the two of them were just too busy enjoying the sunny drive to talk.  
  
 _“I was hanging upside down from the overpass --  
Waiting to discover something about the world.  
I couldn’t get with the program,  
And I couldn’t listen to them,  
It was like trying to think in reverse.  
  
And I don’t want to slide in to apathy,  
And I don’t want to die in captivity,  
But these monsters follow me around,  
Hunting me down,  
Trying to wipe me out.”_  
  
“We’re here!” Jet announced in a musical fashion.  
  
“Where’s here?” Zuko hadn’t at all been paying attention to where they were going, he’d been too busy the whole time staring at the passing trees and contemplating what bark was made of.  
  
“The finest supermarket in the tri-suburb area,” Jet muttered through a cigarette, unlit at this point.  
  
“Tri-suburb area?”  
  
“Did I stutter?” Jet asked incredulously.  
  
“Nope. No. So what exactly makes this supermarket the best in tri-suburb area?”  
  
“It’s the only one,” Jet giggled through his cigarette, pulling into a nearby empty car park – it was after 2.00 on a Tuesday, who was grocery shopping at this hour? Zuko saw the supermarket – it was a Roku’s: self proclaimed ‘hottest’ supermarket chain in Ba Sing Se. The supermarket took up very nearly the whole building, spare a small newsagency, Asian takeaway and liquor store. The whole building looked just a bit run down in the golden sun light – certainly, graffiti artists had had their way with it a number of times over, and then some.  
  
Jet pulled into a spot, stopped the car and then immediately reached for the lighter sitting in his lap. He lit the cigarette with a sigh of relief. “Ah, I can breathe again.”  
  
Zuko rolled his eyes, stepping out of the car and into the seasonably warm air. The surrounding neighbourhood was actually rather nice, Zuko thought. It was rather old, and the houses were built for security rather than aesthetic purposes, but it was overflowing with trees – which made brilliant patterns on the ground from the sunlight that they blocked.  
  
“C’mon Zuko, let’s just get this over with, so I can go home and scratch myself.”  
  
“Uh… I might regret asking this, but why can’t you just scratch yourself here?”  
  
“I was kidding Zuko,” Jet said gruffly, clearly shocked by Zuko’s clear lack of a sense of humour. “I want to go home so I can take my pants off and read my psychology text book.”  
  
A silence ensued. “Were you kidding that time as well,” Zuko asked cautiously.  
  
Jet sighed, “Only a little – I’m gonna read Suki’s bra labels. They amuse me.”  
  
Zuko nodded worriedly, was he joking that time too? Jet had been in a terrible mood ever since he learned that Haru was coming over. Zuko didn’t understand – Suki liked him, so he couldn’t be all that bad, could he?  
  
Without another word Jet and Zuko padded off toward the door. The door, with a rather unpleasant slimy noise, slid away in Jet and Zuko’s presence – as all good automated doors should. They air conditioning immediately hit them, nearly sending them back a couple of steps. They headed towards the Rokus.  
  
“Alright Zuko,” Jet said with a sigh, “Let’s find the macaroni aisle. And then the cheese aisle. And then I’d like to quickly peruse the magazines; I wanna see who got fat this week.”  
  
“Oh, I also need a get a few things whilst we’re here,” Zuko said brightly. He’d been using baking soda to brush his teeth all week – he’d never been to a supermarket before, so was just a tad bit hesitant to go alone. Something in the name supermarket made it seem so complicated and hard… almost like a challenge, really.  
  
Jet groaned loudly, “Do you have to? I hate this place… full of… fruits and vegetables… and such.”  
  
Zuko looked at him pleadingly – he was scared for the health of his teeth.  
  
“Okay,” Jet conceded gruffly, “but makes it quick, this place makes my eyes and lungs hurt.”  
  
Zuko was beginning to become seriously worried about the state of Jet’s lungs.  
  
 _Minutes Pass_  
  
Jet groaned loudly. Zuko ignored him. He had stopped again, much to Jet’s displeasure, to browse the shampoos. “Honestly Zuko, you shop like my grandmother. And she’s racist.”  
  
Zuko was too deep in thought to make a puzzled look. He picked one of the shampoo bottles off the shelf. Organic. For dry hair. Frequent use. Out of his peripheral vision he could see Jet with a hopeful look lighting up his face. Zuko considered the benefits of the shampoo – his hair was often dry, and he wasn’t hurting any animals, or the environment, in the process. But he just didn’t trust himself to use the shampoo frequently. Was he really ready to make that kind of commitment; to have to use the shampoo everyday to get its full affects? Zuko put the bottle back. Jet screamed in frustration.  
  
“Can’t you just wait for me?” Zuko asked.  
  
“The damn shit ass-fucking hell I will!” Jet yelled.  
  
“Jet, don’t swear so loudly!”  
“Zuko, if you do not get a shampoo in the next eight seconds I’m going to scream. Wait. No. I’m going to moan your name very, very loudly and inappropriately and everyone will look and you’ll be wildly uncomfortable.”  
  
“Um… what?”  
  
“UNH ZUKO!” Jet screamed to the heavens, throwing himself against the shelf, “Oh yeah, just like that. Unh, HARDER! Yeah, FASTER! Oh, ooh….”  
  
“Jet!” Zuko squeaked, “What are you doing?” He looked around frantically, “There’s people! Children and pregnant ladies!”  
  
“Pull my hair! YEAH BABY, PULL IT HARDER! OH, SAY MY NAME! SAY IT!”  
  
“JET!!! Okay! We’ll go!”  
  
“HA! You said my name,” Jet giggled, apparently back to normal.  
  
Zuko wept inwardly, taking the organic shampoo bottle off the shelf and throwing it into his basket. “I wanted to browse,” Zuko whispered, downtrodden, to himself.  
  
They walked off down the aisle, Jet smirking to himself, Zuko pouting. Suddenly Jet came to a halt. “Wait, Suki and I are out of condoms,” he paused, “that may have been the straightest thing I have ever said… ew.”  
  
Zuko looked simply bewildered, which was quickly replaced by fury. “What? We can go browse condoms, but I can’t look at shampoos?!!”  
  
“Zuko, this is bigger than your picky-ass hair.”  
  
“Fine,” Zuko slumped.  
  
It was a short walk to the condom section, which was ironically situated next to the pregnancy test and baby care section. “Ah, I’m home,” Jet said proudly.  
  
“You come here often, then?”  
  
“Not lately… I’m going through a dry spell. But when I’m not... Man, I’m good.” Jet sighed.  
  
“Ha… nice mental image there.”  
  
“You bet it’s nice! I am a sex god.”  
  
“Do sex gods often go through dry spells?”  
  
Jet glared. “I’m going to ignore that”  
  
Zuko smiled to himself, proud of his quick witty remark. Jet sighed, turning his attention back to the condoms. “Hm,” Zuko eyed the different brightly coloured and sexually innuendos packets. “Ribbed? Studded? Ice? They all sound so uncomfortable.”  
  
Jet expression suddenly went far away. He returned three uncomfortable minutes later with a satisfied hum. “Yes, it is definitely uncomfortable… but that’s part of it.”  
  
“I see...”  
  
Jet eyed Zuko. “Really?”  
  
“No.”  
  
Jet scoffed. “I’d expect nothing more from you… you’re so plain I could I smoke.” He said, turning his attention back to the condoms.  
  
“Hey, I’ve been known to be very… eccentric.”  
  
“Yeah? Did you put parmesan instead of plain cheese on your toasted sandwich once?”  
  
“Yes I did; and it wasn’t half bad. Though I wouldn’t do it again,” Zuko’s expression also went far away for a short period of time, he returned with a disgusted look on his face, “yeah, never again.”  
  
Jet chuckled. “Yeah dude, you’re hardcore.”  
  
Zuko smiled, absolutely delighted that Jet called him hardcore. He made a mental note to journal this when he got home.  
  
 _Later_  
  
Jet and Zuko arrived home at a timely 3.00pm, just half an hour after they had first left the house. Jet appeared exhausted by the effort – slamming they car door and dragging his feet to the house. “UGH! I feel a nap coming on!”  
  
Zuko gave Jet a worried look; any kind of physical activity seemed to take a lot out of him. “How do you live like this?”  
  
“Very happily, Mr. Stick-up-your-arse,” Jet spat back at him.  
  
“Hm… maybe you should take that nap.”  
  
“I will.”  
  
“Okay then,” Zuko said cheerily.  
  
“SHUT UP ZUKO!” Jet spat at him, fed up with his positive attitude; Zuko flinched. “I’m so sorry…” Jet said, shocked by his own angry tone, “I’ll take that nap right away.” The looming arrival of Haru had obviously stressed Jet’s mind to breaking point. Zuko didn’t mind – Jet was entitled to one bad day out of the year. Since he’d moved in, Jet had been nothing but pleasant and welcoming.  
  
Without another word Jet flung open the door, ran into the living room, stripped off down to his underwear and dove on to the couch – falling asleep before he landed. Without a second look or thought, Zuko took the shopping (one whole bag) to the kitchen. He sighed – he’d cleaned it this morning, but already (and he really wasn’t sure how) there was cigarette ash all over the benches, a small mountain of dirty bowls on the floor, and a sink full of dirty bras. How was it at all possible for Suki to make that much mess in under an hour?  
  
Zuko unpacked the shopping bag. Soft snoring came from the couch. He walked over, Jet looked so cute – tucked into the foetal position, sucking his thumb. Zuko put a blanket over him – he didn’t want Jet to catch a chill. My god, he was turning into a mother. He deliberated whether to watch porn to remedy this… but decided to help Jet out and cook the Mac  & Cheese. It couldn’t be too hard. He’d seen people cook in movies… admittedly, not Mac & Cheese… but it still couldn’t that hard, could it?  
  
 _Later_  
  
“Oh my fuck Zuko, what did you do?!” Jet exclaimed, having awoken from his nap to find Zuko frantically fanning a black smoking pot with an oven mitt amidst a mess of cooked pasta that he appeared to have somehow spilt all over the floor. “How hard is it to make Mac  & Cheese? There are instructions on the box!”  
  
“There are?” Zuko turned to Jet with a pained expression. “I’ve never cooked before.”  
  
Jet was in a panic; picking up the strainer and trying to gather up all the macaroni off the floor, slipping on them in the process. “This is not good, this is not good. Suki’s gonna kill us!”  
  
“What’s going on out there?” Suki’s voice, oily with suspicion sounded through the hall.  
  
“Nothing Suki, everything’s fine!” Jet’s voice cracked under his nerves. He tossed the strainer full of pasta in to the sink and grabbed the pot from Zuko, who was desparately fighting back tears. “Get your coat.” He hissed.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Get your coat!” He waved the pot at Zuko, ushering him out of the kitchen.  
  
“Why? Where are we going? If we bail, Suki will kill us!” Zuko frantically searched for his coat.  
  
“We’re not bailing; we’ll go to the restaurant.” Jet spoke very fast. “We’ll get them to make us some food – Moira and Sera are working tonight, we’ll take whatever they can give us in 20 minutes and then we’ll bring it back here and have that for dinner and it’ll just have to do—HURRY UP!”  
  
“WHERE’S MY COAT?!”  
  
“YOU DON’T NEED ONE!” Jet swiped his keys off the coffee table and booted Zuko out the door. Just as the front door closed behind them, Suki’s bedroom door flew open. She peered out into the living room, eyes darting around wildly, searching for mishap – when she saw they nowhere to be seen, she adjusted her rack and slowly retreated back into her room.  
  
 _Moments Later_  
  
Jet sped the whole way to the restaurant, while Zuko held on for dear life.  
  
“Jet, slow down! I don’t want to die like this!!” Zuko yelled above the blaring music.  
  
“You should have thought of that before you ruined the Mac  & Cheese!”  
  
“Can we let that go?”  
  
“Who ruins Mac & Cheese?!” Jet screamed. Zuko said nothing.  
  
Jet violently steered into the car park behind the restaurant, accelerating toward a spot then braking just before they hit the wall in front of it. He jumped out of the car, disregarding his need for a post-driving smoke.  
  
“Moira!” Jet called as he ran into the restaurant; Zuko followed.  
  
“Hi, darling,” came Moira’s bored, yet loving voice from the kitchen. He kicked open the door.  
  
“JET!” The yell came from a woman that Zuko hadn’t seen before. She had short dyed black hair and wore a black & white striped shirt which tucked into very revealing black jeans, held up by metal-studded belt. She was absolutely smothered in flour and dip. Zuko assumed that this was the aforementioned Sera.  
  
“WHAT?” He screamed back.  
  
The woman turned away, mockingly offended. “Oh, never mind then.” She laughed loudly and then wiped the sweat from her forehead. It was then that Zuko and Jet noticed how stiflingly hot it was in the kitchen. “Holy shit!” Jet exclaimed, “Why is it so hot in here?”  
  
“The air-conditioner’s broken. I’m this close to working in my underwear—bet you’d like that Sera.” Moira winked at her and then cackled loudly.  
  
Sera shrieked with laughter and then nudged Moira. “I would like that, I told you I’m over men! My ex-husband was a fuckhole, just like the rest of them! I’m a lesbian now, so bend over.”  
  
“I’m a married lady, I will do nothing of the sort—Oh, why hello Mr. Air-Conditioner Man. Thank goodness you’re here.” Moira smiled seductively at the handy-man who had just arrived.  
  
Sera scoffed and turned to Jet. “So whaddaya want, kid? I thought this was your night off.”  
  
“Yeah, it is. I need you to make me food; whatever you can in 20 minutes. I love you.” Jet flashed her an adorable smile.  
  
She smiled back. “Fine. Only because I love you.”  
  
“Yeah, it stopped working yesterday.” Moira’s sultry voice came from the takeaway counter. “And it just gets so hot in here. I’m this close to working in the nude—“  
  
Sera threw a spoon at her. “I’ma call your husband!” she yelled. Moira threw the spoon back.  
  
Half an hour later, Jet and Zuko arrived back home with 2 pizzas, rice, salad and some grilled kebabs. Jet took to organising the food while Zuko got busy cleaning the kitchen. By dinnertime, they were set.  
  
“What’s Suki doing in there?” Zuko asked as he wiped the kitchen bench.  
  
“Fixing her tits. It’s her ritual for every time Haru comes over; she puts on something that shows off her chest, Haru comes over, we make small talk and I try not to kill him, and then they go into Suki’s room and have loud sex and I put my earphones in.” Jet replied, taking a long, long drag of his ciggarette.  
  
Suki came out of her room and Zuko’s eyes boggled. She was wearing a black knee-length slip dress with a push up bra and her hair was done. It was the first time Zuko noticed that she had put that much effort into her appearance. “How does this look?” She asked, adjusting the straps under her arm.  
  
Jet and Zuko made incoherent replies and stared at her chest. Suki smiled. “Good.”  
  
She walked over to the kitchen where Zuko and Jet were standing and took some popcorn out of the large bowl. “So what are you guys--Stop looking at them!”  
  
“Huh?” Jet said, his eyes not moving.  
  
“For gods-sake, you’re a disgrace to your people!”  
  
“Just coz I’m gay, doesn’t mean you don’t have huge boobs!”  
  
Suki adjusted her bra. “Friggin straps...” she muttered.  
  
“So where is Haru anyway?” Jet asked, even though he didn’t care.  
  
“He’s working late” Suki answered.  
  
Jet gasped. “He’s cheating on you!”  
  
Suki scoffed. “No he’s not! That’s ridiculous!”  
  
“No, no! That’s how it always starts, ‘Honey, I’m going to be working late’, ‘Honey I have a business trip’ and then bam! There he is, doing it on the desk with his secretary!”  
  
“... He works at a supermarket!”  
  
“I’m just saying” Jet said with a shrug.  
  
“Jet, you always jump to the most ridiculous conclusions when it comes to Haru! Last month, you thought he wanted to kill you!”  
  
“And I stand by that!” Jet replied matter-of-factly. “I’m sorry, but I find it hard to believe that someone would tell that mind-numbing a story for the sake of it! When he was talking, all I could think was ‘This is it, this is what’s going to kill me.’”  
  
There was a knock at the door and Suki bounded off. “That’ll be Haru!”  
  
“Oh, good; he’s here!” Jet said with mock excitement. Suki opened the door and bounced on Haru’s face before Zuko had a chance to look. Jet looked at them with disgust and took in another drag of his cigarette. Suki finally pulled off Haru with a sucking noise.  
  
“Hi everyone, I brought ice-cream; Vanilla.” Haru said with a smile, holding out the container to Jet. He had a sort of airy look; he had long brown hair which was pulled into a ponytail, and he wore a collared shirt and plain dark green cargo pants. Jet took the ice-cream with a sarcastic smile.  
  
“Gee, thanks Haru!” Jet threw the container over his shoulder, not aiming for anything in particular. Zuko stifled his laughter.  
  
Haru held out his hand to Zuko “You must be the new roommate. Zuko, right?”  
  
Zuko smiled and held out his hand to Haru; despite how much Jet appeared to hate him, it was in Zuko’s nature to be automatically nice to people he was just meeting. “Yes, that’s me. Good to meet you. Can I get you something?”  
  
“Tea would be lovely, if you don’t mind. With milk and one sugar.” Haru said with a doughy smile. Zuko had known Haru for about 8 seconds now and already found him to be a little odd. On that note, Jet took the milk carton from the fridge and drank a huge gulp, leaving a milk-stache on his upper lip.  
  
“Here’s the milk for Haru’s tea.” Jet said with a grin. Zuko smiled.  
  
Haru had seated himself on the armchair and Suki had situated herself horizontally across his lap. Jet went and sat on the couch, saving the spot next to him for Zuko, who was in the kitchen making coffee (and tea) for everyone. Jet did not want to be sitting next to Suki and Haru on the couch when Haru would inevitably start eating her face. Not after the New Year’s incident.  
  
Zuko brought the coffee (and tea) to the living room and placed them all on the coffee table. As Haru was trapped under Suki, Zuko thought he would be nice. “Here’s your tea, Haru.” Zuko handed the mug to Haru and took his spot on the couch next to Jet.  
  
“Thanks, Zuko. Can I ask; is that a wood or a gas heater?” he gestured to the small, enclosed fireplace.  
  
Jet scoffed, Suki looked away, avoiding Jet’s eye and Zuko just stared at Haru, puzzled by his question.  
  
“Uh... It’s a gas heater. Why do you ask?” Zuko offered.  
  
“Oh, ok.” Haru nodded, genuinely interested. “Just wondering. Hey, did you guys know that gas is odourless - they add the smell so that you know when there’s a leak.” Haru said wisely.  
  
“Oh, my God!” Jet said with mock surprise, clasping his hand to his chest.  
  
“Yeah. I think they also do it with methane...” Haru said, as though it was genuinely interesting.  
  
Jet stared at Haru with pure loathing; after about a minute it started to get a little intimidating. Zuko decided maybe it was best to take Jet into the kitchen and finish preparing for dinner; he imagined that if it were possible to kill with the power of the mind, Haru would indeed be the first to go. Followed by all morning people. And then people who liked fruit.  
  
“HOWDY EVERYONE!” The front door flew open to reveal Sokka, striking a triumphant pose. “I had my hand inside of a guys chest for four hours to stop him from bleeding to death! It’s a good day!” He paused when he noticed Haru. “... Hey Haru.” He said, as though Haru had just crapped all over his triumph.  
  
Haru didn’t seem to notice. “Hi Sokka, I take it you had a good day.” How dense could a person be? Zuko was amazed that Suki was with this guy. Suki headed over to kiss Sokka hello.  
  
“Still going out with Captain Boring, I see.” Sokka said with a raised eyebrow.  
  
“He’s not boring! He’s lovely company!” Suki said, now seemingly not sure who she was trying to convince of this. She headed back over to the couch with Haru.  
  
Jet leaned in to Zuko. “She’s always defending him; trying to convince herself that she’s a lovely person who isn’t in the relationship just for the sex.”  
  
Sokka joined Zuko and Jet in the kitchen, opening his box of takeout satay chicken noodles. “What’d you guys do today?”  
  
“Uh, I smoked. Zuko and I went shopping. I napped. Suki went crazy. Oh, and Zuko displayed to me his amazing culinary skills. He fucked up the Mac & Cheese, which is why I’m currently spooning restaurant rice into a bowl.”  
  
“Who fucks up Mac & Cheese?” Sokka asked incredulously.  
  
“Yeah, I know.” Jet replied.  
  
Zuko looked downtrodden. “Oh, honey, didn’t anyone teach you how to do things on your own?” Sokka asked him with a smile. When Zuko didn’t answer, Sokka put his arm around him. “Well in that case, congratulations on being on your own! Its shit, you’ll be just fine.” Sokka said wisely though a mouthful of noodles.  
  
 _Ten Minutes Later_  
  
Zuko had only just started on his kebabs when the sucking noises began. He looked up confusedly from his plate to discover Suki and Haru eating each other’s faces mere seats away from him. He raised an eyebrow – he hadn’t known Haru for long but for some reason he had expected better dinner table etiquette from him. They’d barely touched their food, which Zuko could see infuriated Jet – all that effort and panic for nothing.  
  
Jet had hit the bottle before they sat down at the table, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jet skull the rest of his drink before burping loudly in an attempt to ruin the moment. Sokka giggled.  
  
“Should we leave or something?” Zuko whispered.  
  
“Whatever!” Jet spat.  
  
“Come on Haru, let’s go to my room!” Suki said, leading Haru out of the room. Haru followed her, but not before turning to face Zuko.  
  
“Oh, I might have been mistaken; I think methane already has an odour. But I’m not certain...” Haru wondered aloud.  
  
“... That’s awesome, Haru.” Jet snapped and furiously lit a cigarette. Not out of character, Haru didn’t pick up on Jet’s disdain.  
  
Sokka gestured to his noodles. “Right here; better conversation!” He said quietly; Zuko chuckled.  
  
As Haru closed the door behind him, Jet threw a knife at the door, hitting square where Haru’s head had been 3.2 seconds earlier. The door creaked open to reveal Suki’s piercing glare. She snatched the knife from the door, licking the blade and slammed it behind her.  
  
“... Crap, that’s gonna cost me.” Jet said.  
  
“Yeah, I would think so.” Sokka agreed.  
  
Moments later “All by Myself – Celine Dion” began blasting through Suki’s door, rumbling the whole house and shaking the windows. Jet smacked his head on the dinner table.  
  
\---  
  
“I think they’ve stopped,” Zuko said hopefully, sprawled out on his bed next to Jet.  
  
Having been turned off their dinner, Zuko and Jet had decided to retire to Zuko’s bedroom, where they had turned to music to up to full volume and sound proofed the gaps in the door with pillows. But as they discovered, even the pillows and the music couldn’t stop the sound Haru’s sex shrieking. Certainly nothing could stop the foundations of the house shaking. Sokka decided to go back to the hospital and voluntarily take up an extra shift for the night. Lucky Sokka.  
  
Jet took a moment to consider Zuko’s words, but before he could celebrate and reply he heard another shriek. They both sighed. Zuko was tired, it was way past his bed time, but he couldn’t sleep with all that shrieking.  
  
“Now do you see why I hate Haru?” Jet asked tiredly, repositioning his head across Zuko’s chest.  
  
“Yes, yes I do. How often does this happen?”  
  
“If we’re lucky, once a month,” Jet sighed.  
  
Zuko nodded, feeling instantly more tired at the prospect of this not just being a one-off event.  
  
“The shrieking,” Jet shuddered, “it’s almost inhuman. Now, I myself am not overly quiet during sex, but I certainly don’t shriek. And I would never have sex with someone who shrieks either!”  
  
Zuko felt a strange pang of hope in his stomach – he didn’t shriek either. Zuko was just the opposite of Haru, actually. Mai often complained that Zuko was too silent during sex. But Zuko knew in his head, it was because she never gave him reason not to be – Mai just liked to starfish across the bed and let Zuko do the work. She was limp and inactive during sex, though he’d never tell her.  
  
“What’cha thinking?” Jet asked curiously, a slight purr present in his voice.  
  
Zuko blushed, “My ex-girlfriend Mai. She was terrible at… you know. She would just… lie there, and I would… well, you know…”  
  
“Fuck her?”  
  
“Yes. That.” Zuko’s dropped ten shades of red with embarrassment.  
  
“Well you have to say it, Zuko. I have a wild imagination – for all I know, you two could’ve gone hunting for garden gnomes together, but she’s terrible at it, so she just lied there and let you do all the work.”  
  
“Did you actually think that?”  
  
“It crossed my mind briefly. In here,” he tapped his head, “she’s a gorilla.”  
  
Zuko laughed at the image in his head. Jet’s depiction was actually quite accurate, from the way she lumbered around the place, to the way she slapped Zuko over the head if ever said anything wrong. He could just picture her now swinging from trees.  
  
“But I bet you’re quite good in the sack, aye stud?” Jet winked.  
  
“I’ve only ever been with Mai. She seemed satisfied I guess.”  
  
“Well, you need to broaden your horizons.” Jet thought for a while, “I’ll take you to Sphere this weekend!!! It’s the best gay club in Ba Sing Se! I’ll totes hook you up with someone hot. And you can forget about Mai, and her lame boobs and stuff.”  
  
“Yeah… that sounds good.” Zuko thought it was a terrible idea. He hated clubbing. Plus, he’d already met someone – who sweet and funny and adorable. He wasn’t quite sure when he’d developed these feelings for Jet, but they were definitely there and they were strong. At least, he thought they were strong. He’d certainly never felt this way about Mai, at any point in their expansive and boring relationship. Jet made Zuko happy. Jet felt like a fresh start. But what if Jet was only a crush of convenience? It didn’t matter… well, not tonight anyway.  
  
“I think they’ve stopped,” Jet said happily.  
  
“Yeah…” Zuko replied automatically, deep in thought.  
  
They fell asleep not long after.


	4. Silly Sokka, tricks are for kids...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka has a secret.

_What a shame we all became, such fragile broken things.  
A memory remains, Just a tiny spark,  
I give it all my oxygen, to let the flames begin,  
So let the flames begin,   
Oh Glory... Oh Glory!_  
  
Sokka was confused. Why was the IV drip singing to him? He tried to ask – politely – but found that it just screeched over him as it became inexplicably more distant and fuzzy. Rude. Really rude.  
 _  
Somewhere weakness is our strength, and I’ll die searching for it.  
I can’t let myself regret, such selfishness.  
My pain, I know the trouble caused, no matter how long.  
Well, I believe that there’s hope,   
Buried beneath it all, and... Hiding beneath it all, and... Growing beneath it all._  
  
Sokka rolled over, slowly coming to realise that there was no singing IV drip. There was, however, an alarm clock, which was shaking the windows with its crackly, off-pitch, high volume sound. 4:02, it read. It was the crack of fucking dawn, and as he was forced to do every Monday, Thursday and Saturday, he had to get up. But then again, changing bed pans would be a thing of the past if he could find that singing IV drip. He’d be a millionaire. Singing IV drips? It’s absolutely ludicrous.  
 _  
This is, how we’ll dance when,  
when they try to take us down.  
This is what we’ll be, oh glory._  
  
He rolled over again, waking abruptly as the bedroom floor said a rather inglorious good morning to his face. The two met with a loud ‘whump’. Wrapped in his blankets, Sokka sat up and rubbed his sore face, taking a moment to also scratch the dried crusties from the corners of his eyes. Then he realised that the song had changed.  
  
 _Distant flickering, greener scenery.  
This weather's bringing it all back again.  
Great adventures, faces and condensation.  
I'm going outside to take it all in._  
  
‘Headlock...’ Sokka struggled to remember what that usually meant. ‘I’m late!’ he realised with a jolt and got up a little too quickly, causing his head to spin and his blanket to fall to the floor, exposing his nakedness - Sokka found pyjamas to be too constricting when he slept.   
  
He left his room in a flurry, headed straight for the bathroom. Still half asleep, he walked straight in to the bathroom door. For the second time this morning he found himself on the ground, only this time against a wall… a very, very comfortable wall.  
  
 _I don’t want to be saved,  
But I want to go down with you.  
Together we will find a way to come back,  
Come back…_  
  
‘Lacuna Coil… oh, fuck.’ Now even later, Sokka gave up on the idea of bathing. With a sigh, he headed back to his room to put on his scrubs. ‘FML’ he thought, as started his “no-time-to-shower-grooming-routine”.

  
***

“Hey kiddo,” Sokka said with a friendly smile to the small seven year old boy, lying amongst a mass of cords and IV lines. Sid had been at the hospital for quite a while, and Sokka had developed a pretty close bond with him. The boy’s parents were sitting on either side of him, the dad playing a video game with him and the mother looking on and smiling.

“Hi Sokka!” Sid said, beaming up at him.

“What are you playing?” Sokka asked.

“It’s Pokémon Platinum,” The dad replied, “and it’s totally awesome!” he smiled at his son, who smiled back. Sokka really liked this family; probably his favourite thing about his job was the patients and the relationships he got to form with them.

“Wow, I’m so jealous!” Sokka said, “Anyway punk, I’ve just gotta increase your drip a little...” Sokka adjusted his IV slightly. “How you feeling today?” He asked.

“Ok, I’m bored though. When can I go home?” He asked.

Sokka honestly didn’t know the answer to that question. “As soon as we think we’ve done a good enough job making you better.” He said with a smile and then turned to the parents. “I’ll be back to check on you later.” He said.

“Thank you.” The mother smiled at him. At that, Sid’s doctor came through the door. He was really a very good looking man. He was in his early-to-mid thirties, with full smooth brown hair, waxed gently to a side, soft honey eyes and a slight 5.00 shadow set atop his proud and prominent jaw.

He looked at Sokka, his eyes lingering for just a second, then back at the boy.

“Hey Sid, how you feeling today?”

Sokka quietly exited, not before the doctor looked at him again. Sokka held his gaze for a second and then left the room, unable to hide his smile. The mother looked at Sokka, then the doctor, then the doctor’s wedding ring. She looked down and smiled to herself, knowingly.

Sokka went to the Nurse’s station and filed through several charts, trying to find the one for his next patient. That was when he heard a soft female voice.

“Excuse me?” She was very pretty. She had a sweet and elegant look about her, dressed casually, but in a way that was noticeably stylish. Her long blonde tresses were tucked behind one of her ears.

“Yeah?” Sokka smiled at her.

“Uh, I’m looking for my husband. He’s a doctor; Dr. Winchester.”

Sokka stared for a minute -- several minutes -- he wasn’t sure. He tried to answer her, but forgot how to use his voice. He managed a small noise and looked at her guiltily, before turning to look at her husband, in Sid’s room talking to his parents. He turned back to the woman.

“You’re... his wife?” he managed.

“Yes, I’m Natalie.” She replied, with a timid smile. She paused for a second, not sure what to make of Sokka’s reaction. “Are you alright?”

Sokka just looked at her; words eluding him. “Uh... yeah, he’s in there.” He motioned to Sid’s room, before putting back his charts and quickly leaving the Nurse’s station in a daze.

***

Sokka came to, sitting in his car in the driveway of the house; he didn’t remember leaving the hospital or driving home. His cheeks were wet with tears and his knuckles had turned white from gripping the steering wheel. He slowly came back to his senses, blinking furiously and looking into the rear-view mirror; he wiped the tears from his face and rubbed his eyes. He stared at his reflection, not sure what to make of what he saw, then shook his head and got out of the car, heading for the house.

“Tits.” He heard Jet say from the living room.

“Bazookas!” Suki screeched in reply.

“Dude, you don’t have to yell every time you say something!” Jet sounded exasperated.

“It’s exciting!” She screamed again.

“Sokka?” Suki scratched her head, squinting her eyes in concentration as she tried to remember Sokka’s schedule. Sokka didn’t appear to take any notice of them, as walked straight past them and into the bathroom. Suki and Jet exchanged a worried glance. "What’s up with him?” Suki asked.

“Maybe a bad day at the hospital...” Jet replied.

Sokka shut the bathroom door behind him and rested against it, closing his eyes. He took in a few deep breaths, and then noticed that the shower was running. He opened his eyes to see Zuko peering out at him from behind the curtain, looking confused and violated, his hair bubbly with shampoo. Sokka stared at Zuko.

“Sorry, didn’t know you were in here.” He said softly.

Zuko looked at Sokka, concerned by his tone. “It’s ok.” He replied, offering a small smile. “You want to impose on my shower, don’t you?”

Sokka gave a small chuckle and rubbed his eyes again. “Yeah, I kinda do.”

Zuko, aware that something was wrong, swallowed his sense of shame and gestured for Sokka to come in. Sokka gave a long sigh before stripping off his clothes and getting into the shower. He stepped under the hot water and closed his eyes, allowing it to wash over him. Zuko watched him stand motionless for a few minutes.

“Do you want to talk?” Zuko finally asked him. Sokka opened his eyes, water running over his face. He was silent for a moment.

“I haven’t talked to Jet or Suki about it...” He said finally, “I don’t know, I guess I just couldn’t... I’ve kind of been seeing someone. A doctor at the hospital, his name’s Alexander.”

“Hmm...” Zuko said with a smile, “So what’s the problem?”

“He’s married.”

Zuko’s smile slowly vanished. “Oh...”

“Yeah, his wife came to the hospital today looking for him. It was the first time I’d ever seen her... I don’t know; I didn’t hate myself so much when she was this disembodied entity, the whole thing didn’t seem so bad. Just seeing her, face to face made her real and it meant that he had an actual wife... I guess I just kind of flipped...” Sokka trailed off.

Zuko was silent for a moment. “Tell me about him.”

“Well, he’s hot,” Sokka said with a sigh. Zuko cocked his head with a disbelieving smile. “Okay,” Sokka sighed, “get comfortable.”

Zuko was showering... he wasn’t sure what to do with that... “Well... I should probably go get dressed then--,”

“It all began on a special winter’s day. Faye Day, as we call it.”

“Faye Day?”

“Don’t interrupt,” Sokka said sharply in his daze.

**_*Flashback*_ **

Most of the hospital staff were gathered together in the usual bar where Faye Day was celebrated. Chief-of-Medicine Faye Dunaway was cackling madly as the staff flocked around the large birthday cake, on which the pastry chef had managed to fit: “Happy age-unspecified Birthday Chief-of-Medicine Faye Dunaway”.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birth —,"

“FASTER!”

“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday Faye Dun--,"

“CHIEF!”

‘Chief-of-Medicine Faye Dunaway. Happy birthday to you. Hipip HOORAY!’

“LOUDER!”  
 **  
“HOORAY!!”**

“AAAAAAHH! You all keep me so young!” She squawked, spitting out her candles.

Sokka had had one of the worst days he’d had in a long time; he’d lost a patient, Gertrude. She was a hard, impatient crone of an old woman but Sokka had managed to crack her open like he cracked walnuts open with a wrench. Once a day, he would sneak her some rum and she would tell him absurd (and frankly, weird) sex stories from her youth. To remedy the loss of what had become a good friend, Sokka was sharing a bottle of whiskey... with himself.

“You should slow down on that alcohol; I would know, I’m a doctor.” The voice belonged to a doctor that Sokka knew by his face and an occasional smile and a wave of hello around the hospital. He was taking a seat next to Sokka and giving him a friendly smile.

“Yeah, you’re funny.” Sokka said with sarcasm. “And no, I can’t sneak you extra scrubs--,"

“YOU SNEAKIN’ EXTRA SCRUBS?” The booming voice belonged to Bailey, the large, angry, Black, Head Nurse. Legend went that she’d beaten the former Head Nurse senseless until she’d passed over the position.

Sokka flinched. “No, Bailey. We were just talking--,"

“Yeah, you’re just talkin’, let’s keep it that way. I got my eye on you Nurse Sokka.” She backed away, her eyes never leaving Sokka for a second, until she tripped over a bartender and landed on her back. Chief-of-Medicine Faye Dunaway pointed and howled with laughter.

“So, Sokka’s your name?”

“Uh... I just told you, I can’t sneak you extra scrubs. Why are you kissing my ass?”

“I’m not sure I understand,” he said with a wide smile, which revealed a set of white, perfectly aligned teeth. And Sokka was his – he was a sucker for a perfect, gooey smile.

“You’re a doctor; therefore you want something from me. Doctors never associate with nurses, unless they want something...”

“Nope, I was just making small talk. This party is unbearable, if I hear another screech I might just hang myself.” In the background, Chief-of-Medicine Faye Dunaway screeched as she shimmied at a group of frightened interns. The doctor shuddered.

“Eat your words, mysterious doctor. I have a rope in my car if you want to use it,” Sokka said smugly.

The doctor laughed; it was like diamonds (Authors note: Twilight reference – lawl). “Now, why would you have a rope in your car, paranoid nurse?”

“I have my reasons, mysterious doctor.” Sokka sipped his whiskey through a silly straw he’d brought from home. He drifted off for a second, returning from his far-away look with a smile and a satisfied hum. “Yeah, that was a good night.”

The doctor laughed again... it was like more diamonds!

“My name is Alexander... friends call me Xander.”

Sokka looked him up and down briefly. “Alright then, mysterious doctor,” he said with a grin. The whiskey was starting to take affect, which was impeding his sense of humour greatly.

“So, I haven’t seen you around the hospital lately. Which floor are you on?”

“I’ve been working hospice lately.” Sokka replied with a sigh.

Xander flinched, “Oh, that’s rough. Is that why you’re hitting the whiskey?”

“Can’t I just love whiskey?”

“People don’t usually ‘love’ whiskey... especially not through a silly straw.”

Sokka glared. “Are you making fun of my silly straw?”

“No, no, it’s awesome. Just an observation.” A silence loomed, as Xander looked expectantly at Sokka with a calm smile.

“Well,” Sokka said finally. “I kind of lost a patient today. Nice old lady, we became quite good friends in the end.”

“That’s daring of you,” Xander said admirably.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, friendships with hospice patients are doomed to end quickly.” Sokka felt a little insulted... a little ashamed, as well. “I mean, I think it’s sweet. You’re putting your own emotional well being on the line. Not many of us have the guts do that. It’s admirable, really.”

“Yeah well, you’re a doctor; you don’t form the same sort of relationship with your patients as nurses do. From my experience, you sponge an old woman’s vagina, you’re friends forever.” Sokka replied grimly. The knot that he was drinking away retightened in his stomach. He took a couple more sips on his whiskey and wrinkled his mouth.

“Ah, don’t worry Sokka; I’ve sponged a few vaginas in my day...” Xander said, looking reminiscent of uncomfortable memories.

“Oh, I bet you have.” Sokka purred, giving him a sideways look. Xander paused, looking confused. ”... I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that...”  
 _  
 **Time passes.**_

It was now that time of Faye Day when the sun was beginning to poke its head above the horizon; everyone had long since retired and Chief-of-Medicine Faye Dunaway was lying in a drooling, drunken heap on the floor, being swept into a corner by a tired bartender.

Xander and Sokka were the only ones left, sitting at a booth in the furthest corner of the bar. They had gone over all possible topics of conversation for meeting new people: the effectiveness of Domestos vs. Jiff, what constitutes an attractive nipple, Barack Obama, Ellen Degeneres, the possible marriage of Barack & Ellen, embarrassing drunk moments, LOST, and the ever popular issue of gay rights.

“See...” Sokka slurred, “I think it all comes down to... why the fuck do people care? I mean... gay sex is hawt!”

Xander shrugged. “Sure, yeah, I know what you mean; I mean sometimes I like to take a 10 minute shower. And I know that may displease some people, but it makes me happy. So my point is: who gives a fuck what anyone thinks?”

Sokka slapped him. “You take a 10 minute shower? You’re killing the environment!” He accused. Xander looked at him confused, before Sokka burst out laughing. “Aaaaahh! I’m just kidding! Wow, I’m drunk...”

On that note, the tired and exasperated looking bartender approached them. “Would you guys mind leaving...? Wait...” he said with a tired sigh. “Let me rephrase; we’re closed. Get out. And take Chief-of-Medicine Faye Dunaway with you!”

Sokka looked at a lump in the corner and smiled “Aw, she looks so sweet and peaceful…”

Xander paused, regarding the lump with a confused look “… Yeah, that’s not Chief-of-Medicine Faye Dunaway; that is.” He said pointing to the hissing and spitting Chief-of-Medicine Faye Dunaway, wrapped in an elephant skin rug. Sokka flinched and let out a small shout.

“Derek, no! Pick me, choose me, love me. You talented, brilliant, selfish bastard. Seriously… Seriously!” She spat.

Sokka and Xander exchanged looks. “Well, we’ll get out, but we ain’t taking her.”

“You’ve gotta take her.”

“We really can’t take her. We’ll tip you extra for putting up with us, though.” Sokka turned to Xander. “You got extra money for tips?”

“I really don’t. I used the last of it to buy you that lap dance from Chief-of-Medicine Faye Dunaway.”

Sokka glared at Xander as he laughed. “Yeah, thanks for that by the way. I don’t think I’ve ever seen more skin being flapped at one time in one place.”

“Sorry,” Xander apologized to the bartender, “it doesn’t look like we have ay extra money for tips. Will you accept...,” He dug through his pockets and pulled out a button, a pair of earphones, a packet of gum, some lint, a cotton swab and what looked like a receipt. “This coupon for... soap?” Sokka scoffed and he and Xander both laughed.

The bartender thought for a moment. “I will not.”

“What if I flash you?” Sokka said with a giggle.

“No, thankyou.” The bartender replied. Then he looked contemplative. “I might accept a free physical...”

Sokka and Xander exchanged looks and shrugged. “Well, get to it, Doctor.” Sokka said with a grin.

Seventeen uncomfortable minutes later Sokka and Xander had gotten their coats and stepped out into the fresh air. Sokka made a pained grunt.

“What’s wrong?” Xander said attentively.

“It’s unbearable!” Sokka exclaimed. ”The fresh air! I miss the stench of stale beer and Faye Dunaway’s spit.”

Xander gave Sokka a sideways look. “You’re ... unique.”

“Why thank you.” Sokka smiled and looked at his watch. “Crap, it’s late... or early... late? Early... Man, I gotta get home!”

Xander looked disappointed to hear it, then seemed to realise that Sokka had a point. “I’ll walk you home, then?”

“Sure,” Sokka was a little nervous about where this night that was now morning could lead, but wherever it was, he had no problem with going there.

The sun had fully risen by the time they reached the door. Jet’s car was gone – definitely a good thing. Suki’s on the other hand was still parked in the driveway. Sokka quickly snuck a look at his watch – 6:20, way too early for Suki to be conscious.

“Alright, well this is me.” Sokka said, fiddling with his keys in his pocket. “Thanks for the walk home, by the way.”

“Oh, that’s fine. Hey, I had a great time.” Xander gave an almost shy smile.

Sokka smiled back. “Yeah, me too, I had fun.” They stood in front of the door, both clearly trying to think of something to say.

“By the way, lime-green door; daring.” Xander said with his hands in his pockets.

“Oh, yeah. Thankyou.” Sokka replied absently.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you at the hospital?” Xander asked hopefully.

“Yeah, definitely.” Sokka sighed. Great sex was sitting on silver platter right in front of him for the taking. He deliberated going in for the kiss... but what if Xander wasn’t gay? He’d never specified. But then, why would he have spent the whole night talking to Sokka? Sokka was unsure. The wind whistled in his ear, sounding like Suki’s voice for some reason (He had been drinking a lot). “Fucking do it!” she bellowed.

Fuck it, thought Sokka – what was there to lose?

He leaned in very quickly, taking Xander’s face in his hands and planting a soft kiss on his lips. He went to pull away to gauge the reaction, but found that something was stopping him – Xander had raised his hands to cup Sokka’s cheeks. He pulled him closer, moving his lips against Sokka’s. Sokka inwardly sighed with relief. Xander’s lips were warm and soft, which contrasted the feel of his stubble, which was grinding lightly against his face. Sokka went gooey – he then realised he wasn’t breathing.

Sokka pulled away, this time with a little more gusto, forcing Xander’s hand off his face. He used the opportunity to pull some oxygen into his lungs.

“What’s wrong?” Xander said, breathless.

Sokka held Xander’s gaze. “Do you want to go inside?” He uttered shyly.

A silence loomed. Xander’s face was blank. Sokka was beginning to think he was going to get turned down, when—

“Aaaah, gotcha!” Xander certainly picked inopportune times to make jokes.

“Yeah, I get it, you’re funny.” Sokka pulled Xander towards him by his shirt collar, pressing his lips against Xander’s. Xander responded almost nervously, gripping the waist of Sokka’s T-Shirt and pulling him closer as Sokka fumbled with his keys, trying to find the right one and open the door. He got the door open and guided Xander through the house, past the lifeless forms of Suki and Haru unconscious on the couch. Suki was sprawled rather ungracefully (and naked) across the couch, with Haru – fully clothed; shoes and all – asleep on top of her. Sokka kept Xander’s face directed toward his – he knew that if Xander caught glimpse of them, it would kill the mood without a doubt.

They made their way through to Sokka’s bedroom and Xander pressed Sokka against the door, kissing him more forcefully now. They left their doubts behind them as they pulled and ripped at each other’s clothes. Xander found the zipper of Sokka’s jeans and reached inside; Sokka let out a short burst of breath and pulled his face away slightly, staring at Xander with wonder before kissing him again. They hurriedly undressed each other as they made their way to the bed; Sokka falling on top of Xander, kissing him along his torso before being flipped onto his back and subjected to sweet torture. They weren’t aware of anything except the sounds emitting from one other and the devastating sensations as they slid across each other in their restless, forceful wrestling. Sokka opened his drawer, felt around and found a condom and lubricant.

Xander went to turn Sokka over, but Sokka resisted and stared up at him. Xander looked down at him with a small smile and Sokka looked back at him, both silently competing. Xander went to take the small packet from Sokka’s hand and he playfully pulled it away, and then, as Xander kissed him softly, he conceded and let him take the wrapper. Xander kissed him again, deeply this time and Sokka rolled over.

Sokka gripped the pillow and winced as Xander moved inside him; hiding his face in his pillow for just a moment, as if trying to conceal his helplessness. Their bodies grew warmer, arching and stretching in awe of the other. Sokka craned his head back, tilting his face towards Xander’s and kissed him impatiently. Xander buried his face into Sokka’s neck and began to move with more urgency now, enraging Sokka with each thrilling sound he made. Sokka reached behind and threaded his fingers through Xander’s hair; unable to hold off, he allowed himself to be overwhelmed.

The euphoria of release took both of them together. Xander rested his head on Sokka’s back for a moment and then slowly slid down to lie next to Sokka, his arm draped over Sokka’s body as he breathed into his neck. Sokka kissed Xander’s face gently. Xander smiled and gave Sokka an ample kiss on the mouth, before closing his eyes. Sokka lost track of how long they were lying there; he tried to keep his eyes open for as long as possible, which proved difficult as Xander’s fingers gently traced over Sokka’s neck, up and down his back, coaxing him to sleep.

***

“That was awesomely graphic.” Zuko said awkwardly as mental images swam through his head.

“Sorry,” Sokka snapped out of his trance, “I got a little carried away... I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable... it was a good night though...”

“Yeah, sounds like it was. I’m sure there would be crickets chirping if they weren’t so uncomfortable... and if we weren’t in the shower...”

Zuko scratched his head, unsure if he could ever look at Sokka the same way again.

“Anyway, where was I?” Sokka asked.

“Actually Sokka, I--,"

“Oh, that’s right; we totally did it...” Sokka resumed his story. Zuko sighed; it looked like he would be here for a while.

***

Sokka was filing through charts at the Nurses Station when he felt a pair of hands cover his eyes and a familiar voice croon into his ear, “Hey.”

Sokka smiled and turned around. “Hi.”

Xander put his hands in his pockets. “How are you? I’m sorry I took off yesterday, but you looked so adorable I didn’t want to wake you up.” He gave a sheepish grin.

Sokka snorted “What a line!” Xander smiled; Sokka melted. “It’s fine, I understand.” Sokka inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. He’d been obsessing ever since he’d woken up after their night together to find that Xander had gone. “I had a great time though.” He added.

“Yeah, so did I.” Xander looked at the floor, then back up at Sokka.

Sokka decided to bite the bullet. “So... that being the case, did you want to get together again sometime?”

Xander stared for a moment, as if he had conflicting responses. When Xander went to scratch his nose Sokka knew why. He felt as though he’d been hit in the face; glinting on Xander’s finger was a plain gold ring. Sokka’s expression of cute, flirty shyness was overcome with one of surprise and anger.

“What is that?” He asked quietly.

“What?” Xander asked.

Sokka furiously grabbed Xander’s wrist and held it up. “What is this?”

Xander appeared to be lost for words. He stared at Sokka, who was fuming.

“This is a wedding ring.” Sokka said in a low voice.

“Yes.” He answered quietly.

“It wasn’t there before.” Sokka stated, not taking his eyes of Xander.

“No.” Xander confirmed softly.

Sokka turned around and started to walk away. He heard Xander’s footsteps following him. “Hey, wait--” Sokka felt Xander’s hand on his shoulder; he turned around, gave Xander a hard shove backward, then kept walking.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Just give me a sec--“

“Don’t follow me!”

“Just let me explain--”

“That’s like the cheater’s motto!”

“I’m not a cheater--”

Sokka spun around to face him. “What?”

“... Ok, so I cheated. I never meant for it to happen.”

“So, what did you mean to happen?”

Xander looked around him. “Can we please go somewhere else to talk?”

“I don’t want to go anywhere with you.” Sokka was shaking with anger.

“Sokka, I--“ Xander began.

“Shut up! Just stop talking!” Sokka yelled. He stared at Xander for a long time before saying; “Do you have any idea how stupid I feel?”

Xander ran his hand through his hair and said nothing.

“Why did you do it? Am I the first person you’ve done this with? Or have there been others?”

“No, just you.”

“Oh, that makes me feel so special and pretty!” Sokka spat sarcastically at him. He couldn’t speak anymore, and he did not want to hear Xander’s voice anymore either. He walked away; practically euphoric that Xander was no longer trying to follow him.

Sokka spent the next two hours floating absently around the halls of the hospital. When his baby pet intern, whom he’d named Petal-head, called his name with his usual tone of quivering fear, Sokka turned around and smacked his knee against the bench of the Nurse’s station.

“AAAARRGH!! WHAT?” He screamed. Petal-head stared at him, literally paralysed with fear. The guilt, pity and mother-hen instinct immediately overwhelmed Sokka. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I didn’t mean to yell. I’m in a bit of a mood. I should go before I kill someone.” He left Petal-head standing immobilized and lost in the hallway.

Sokka needed to be left alone, even if it was for 20 minutes. He stormed into the locker room shower, turned the water on and sat on the shower floor before realising that he was still in his scrubs. He rested his head in his hands, inwardly cursing himself for getting involved with an involved man; it seemed like he was trapped in a bad soap opera. He then thought to himself that he wasn’t at all the one at fault and turned his anger towards Xander for lying to him. What a perfectly groomed, gorgeous asshole!

“You wanna tell me why I’ve spent the last half hour warding off Dr. Hot-Butt with a bedpan?” Came Bailey’s disgruntled voice from the shower door. Sokka flinched and let out a small shriek – how long had she been standing there? Bailey looked at him expectantly, waiting for Sokka to answer her.

“It’s, uh... it’s a long story, Bailey...” Sokka offered pathetically. Bailey was, of course, unsatisfied with this answer and connected the dots rather well.

“You had sex with him and you didn’t know that he was married.” She affirmed. Sokka stared at her, flabbergasted.

  
“How’d you know that?” He asked.

Bailey scoffed “I didn’t. You just told me.”

Sokka stared at her for a moment. “... Well played.” He said with a nod and shuffled over to give her room next to him.

“Thank you.” She said, parking it next to him. “So, I thought you should know that he’s waiting stupidly outside of the locker room for you. I told him to go do something useful, and then he told me to go do something useful. Then I hit him. Right in the mouth. He’s bleeding.” She paused for effect; it worked. “Then he apologized and politely asked me to tell you that he was outside wanting to talk to you. Then I hit him again.” She added.

“Why?”

She shrugged. “I have anger issues.”

Sokka groaned. “Can you tell him that I don’t want to talk to him?”

“I’m not an owl!” Bailey screeched, flapping her arms wildly over her head. “Tell him yourself!” Sokka stared at her, a little frightened, and then got up.

***

Sokka exhaled and paused, putting his head in his hands. Zuko was now trying to conceal the fact that he was very cold. When Sokka didn’t speak, Zuko asked him: “What did you say to him?”

Sokka came back to earth and looked up at Zuko. He was silent for a moment longer, and then said “You’re blue!”

Zuko was confused; why had Sokka said that? What an odd way to kick Xander while he was down... It then clicked that Sokka was talking about him. Sokka reached past Zuko and turned off the water; Zuko inwardly scolded himself for water wastage, got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist.

Sokka did the same. “Why didn’t you tell me how long I was talking for?” He asked Zuko.

Zuko shrugged “I was intrigued by your story... Also, you didn’t seem to hear me when I tried to tell you.”  
“Well, why didn’t you turn off the water?”

Zuko paused. “That honestly didn’t occur to me...”

Sokka looked at his poor, shivering, blue roommate guiltily and apologised. He allowed Zuko to retreat to his room and did the same. Once he’d turned on his heater, dried off and gotten dressed, he laid down on his bed and closed his eyes, reliving his first night with Xander. There was a knock at his door and Zuko poked his head in.

“Is it ok if I come in?”

Sokka smiled. “Yeah.” He made room for Zuko on the bed. They were quiet for a moment.

“So, you didn’t tell me what happened next...” Zuko began to ask.

Sokka sighed. “Well, what happened next was I did talk to him. We talked for a while, and I told him that I didn’t want to continue this thing, whatever it was. And that’s the way it was for a while, but then eventually one thing led to another and we started making out in supply closets and stairwells and elevators and empty patients’ rooms and comatose patients’ rooms. Then we started sleeping together. And now I have to end it, because I met his stupid wife. She was all ‘Hello! I’m pretty and sweet and blonde. I bake exotic gourmet muffins recreationally and hand them out to homeless people.’ Bitch.” He took a deep breath, and then exhaled forcefully. “Seriously though, she was just lovely.”

Zuko paused, not sure whether Sokka was done. When it looked like Sokka wasn’t going to speak, Zuko spoke. “So you’re gonna break up with him?”

“Yeah, I think I have to... Man, this sucks...” Sokka flopped his head onto Zuko’s shoulder.“It’ll be okay,” Zuko said blankly. Truth was, Zuko didn’t know if it would be okay. His whole life, his father had instilled in him a sense of ‘glass-half-empty’, and it was hard to shake. This would upset Sokka, and he was sure that it would put him beyond anyone’s comfort. However, a lifetimes philosophy of ‘glass-half-full’ seemed to work for Suki and Jet, so Zuko tried it out for size.

“How about… some vodka?”

“Eh…”

“Bourbon?”

“Eh…”

“Tequila?”

“THERES TEQUILA IN THE HOUSE?”


	5. my ashtray heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suki, Zuko, Sokka and Jet decide to throw a party. Exploding doorbells, a super emotional Katara, a Ty Lee/Jun girl fight and general hilarity ensue.

It was the calm before the storm – but one stroke away from 11.00pm. Jet sat on the couch, happily flicking through his iPod making final, but nonetheless crucial, adjustments to the evening’s playlist. He was accompanied by all three of his housemates (a rarity by any standard).   
  
Suki, dressed in a very revealing tight cocktail dress was busy fussing and pulling at her bra straps. Sokka, who was wearing the traditional bartender attire – bright gold boy-leg underwear and nothing else – was in the kitchen arranging the spirits into alphabetical order. Zuko looked bored. He sat slouched on the couch, picking not-so-tiny bits of lint from his (A/N: Audacity of...) HUGE baggy brown knit sweater.  
  
“Geez Zuko, who dressed you? My grandmother: the racist?” Jet cussed.  
  
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Zuko said weakly.  
  
Suki, having finally achieved optimal bra positioning/boob hotness ratio, snapped her bra strap back into place and then glowered at Zuko. “It’s brown. It’s baggy. It’s fucking ugly. For God’s sake, you’re a terrible gay.”  
  
“Well, you see… that’s--I’m not--.”  
  
“SOKKA!” Suki screeched, throwing her head back to allow more room in her lungs.  
  
Sokka moon walked out of the kitchen, doing a small robotic twirl before dancing his way to Suki.   
  
“Yeah, hon?”  
  
“Can you please go dress Zuko?” She spat.  
  
Jet rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to the iPod. He thought absently at how pathetic Zuko was --- it was sort of cute in a way, much like a lost puppy. Zuko squabbled with Sokka and Suki for a while, but inevitably he lost and was pulled off the couch and shoved into Sokka’s room. Jet felt a tiny bit guilty about opening his mouth, but he guessed Zuko had to learn somehow.  
  
He raised an eyebrow – amongst his playlist of carefully selected songs was Placebo. He loved Placebo dearly, but that song was positioned just too early in the playlist. Placebo was only for late nights, where sleaziness levels reached critical mass. He moved the song immediately, feeling incredibly fulfilled afterwards.  
  
The doorbell sounded – “ **Gimmie Gimmie More...** ” -- Suki leaped to her feet, making last minute boob adjustments before trotting over to the door in her stilettos. Jet followed in toe, brushing lint from his tight, slightly meshed, white shirt. Suki threw open the door.  
  
“BABY, YOU MADE IT!” She screamed shrilly.  
  
Ty Lee was on the other side. She was a pretty thing, with long brown hair, prominent cheek bones and big blue eyes. She looked so innocent, which was always in sharp contrast to what she was wearing. Tonight, it was a tight black spaghetti-strapped top, which barely covered a black lace bra, which pushed her bountiful breasts up and together. Over that, she wore a cropped leather coat, which matched her plentifully zippered leather mini skirt and knee high leather boots. Ty Lee was ridiculously hot. And with a bottle of champagne in each hand, she squealed at the top of her lungs at the sight of Suki.  
  
“I DID!” Ty Lee replied in her deafening high pitched squeal (somewhere a lamp shattered).  
  
They started jumping and hugging. Jet giggled. He hadn’t seen Ty Lee in months – not since the great Picklegate fiasco, where Suki nearly crashed into a lamppost because Ty Lee had refused to take the pickle off her cheeseburger for an undisclosed reason. But like all things in Girl world, it had quickly resolved itself.  
  
Ty Lee turned her attentions to Jet. “JET!” she squealed, throwing her arms around him, trapping him in a tight and bony embrace.  
  
“TY LEE!” Jet wasn’t one to be out-squealed.  
  
Ty Lee brought the life to any party, amongst other things. She was an elite acrobat, childlike gangster slut and unintentional thief – not only of boyfriends either; she was a complete kleptomaniac and stole anything she liked that was in sight.   
  
She backed away from Jet, sighing and turning to Suki. “Oh, Suki, I love your earrings.”  
  
“Oh, these old things?” Suki smiled, before throwing a sideways glance at Jet. She quickly removed the earrings, threw them to Jet and whispered pointedly, “Jet, hide my earrings.”  
  
Jet caught the earrings, putting them in his back pocket. It was a good thing that Ty Lee was incredibly dense, or else she might’ve felt insulted.  
  
“Oh, and I love your shoes!” Ty Lee beamed.  
  
“Hide my shoes!” Suki whispered fearfully to Jet, hurriedly removing them – her shoes were her identity. He nodded in reply.  
  
“And your couch is so adorable!”  
  
Jet and Suki exchanged glances, both of them equally stumped. “Hide the couch?” Suki was no longer speaking in whispers. Ty Lee still didn’t notice.  
  
“She wouldn’t be able to get it out the door,” Jet replied casually.  
  
Suki sighed with relief, “You’re right. But seriously, hide the shoes.”  
  
Jet nodded reassuringly. “Would you like a drink, babes?” he asked Ty Lee.  
  
“Defs, love!” (A/N: That’s right: we’re hip).  
  
They all moved back into the lounge room, where Zuko and Sokka had just emerged from Sokka’s room. Ty Lee squealed again, jumping into Sokka’s arms and exchanging quick tidbits of gossip at lightning fast speeds. But Jet’s eyes were somewhere else at that moment – on Zuko.  
  
Sokka had done well. Zuko, still with that lost puppy look in his eyes, was now dressed in a pair of black skinny jeans, orange converses, an orange studded belt to match his shoes and a red and black barbed-wire patterned shirt. His long hair was now wet and it hung messily around his head. Zuko looked hawt. Jet felt a strange lusty heat crawl through him. If Zuko were to kiss him now, he probably wouldn’t object. He shook his head – he couldn’t think this way about Zuko. Zuko was his roommate. That was trouble waiting to happen. _FORBIDDEN FRUIT! TAKE HIM! TAKE HIM NOW!!!_ Jet’s inner-monologue screamed.  
  
 **Gimmie Gimmie More!**  
  
Jet snapped out of his trance. He headed back to the door, the uneasiness in his stomach melting away with each step away from Zuko. He opened the door, smiling widely in anticipation.  
  
“Hi Jet.” It had been a while since he’d seen Katara. She had recently (nearly a year ago) gotten out of a very committed relationship (well, those were her words), and since that time, she had been locked away in her apartment or in the bathrooms at her work, distracting herself from thoughts of her ex.  
  
“Katara!” Jet threw a hug around her, pulling her in close. He raised an eyebrow when he heard sobbing. He quickly pulled away and looked her in the face. “Uh… Katara? Is everything okay?”  
  
She lifted her chin, attempting to hold back the tears and put on a brave face. “Yep, yes, everything’s fine.” Two seconds passed. “IT’S JUST… IT’S JUST…. YOU REMIND ME OF HIM SO MUCH!” Katara wailed.  
  
Jet was confused and silent for a moment. “… How? We have nothing in common…”  
  
Katara sobbed loudly “That’s just it; you’re differences make you so similar!”  
  
Jet rolled his eyes, rubbing her back slowly. “Walk it off, walk it off.” Jet pushed her back out the door.  
  
“Okay,” she sobbed back.  
  
He slammed the door, sighing with relief when it was firmly closed. Now he remembered why he hadn’t seen her in so long – he couldn’t stand her. They broke up close to a year ago, and she still wasn’t over it. Every little thing seemed to remind her of him. On second thought, Jet was actually surprised she had made it past the driveway – last time she was here, she broke down, screaming to the high heavens “we used to love walking down driveways together” -- at least she seemed to be improving.  
  
Sokka poked his head out of the kitchen, “Hey, did I just hear sobbing? Is Katara here?”  
  
Jet smirked, “She was. I told her to go walk it off.”  
  
“What was it this time,” he giggled, “welcome mat?”  
  
“Sorta – apparently I remind her of him.”  
  
Sokka raised an eyebrow. “But you look nothing like him.”  
  
“Maybe I smell like him,” Jet suggested.  
  
“I don’t think so, Jet. He was a straight revolutionary, who had a peanut fetish and liked to perform recreational autopsies.”  
  
“He was not!”  
  
“Well he smelled like it.”  
 **  
Gimmie Gimmie MORE!**  
  
Jet flashed Sokka a worried look. “You’d better answer it,” he whispered.  
  
Sokka nodded, roboting out of the kitchen, before dive-rolling across the door. He opened it a crack, looking out cautiously. The door flew open, missing Sokka by mere millimetres before plunging into the adjacent wall.  
  
“You’re in my way,” came a gruff voice. Jet recognised it well. He stepped out from behind the bookshelf and walked up to its source.  
  
“Look, you little rug munching midget, are we gonna have a problem? Because if we are--,”  
  
“—What? You’ll give me a makeover?”  
  
“As a matter of fact, I would. Because I know you’d hate it!”  
  
Toph grabbed Jet by the neck of his shirt, pulling him down to her level. “Listen queer; if you don’t stop blocking my path to the grog, or provide me with grog in the next five seconds, I’ll be stringing you up on the ceiling fan by your testicles.” Jet opened his mouth to speak. “And don’t say ‘you can barely reach my testicles, let alone a ceiling fan,’ because I broke my high school record for shot putting.”  
  
Jet laughed, “I missed you cuz!” Toph responded by yanking him into a surprisingly strong bear hug and then holding him at arms length.  
  
“Whatever,” she bustled passed him.  
  
“Dude, your cousin is freaky,” Sokka said, attempting to wrench the door handle out of the wall.  
  
“She’s different,” Jet said defensively.  
  
“Freaky.”  
  
“Different.”  
  
“Freaky!!!”  
  
“Lesbian?”  
  
“Fine,” Sokka accepted.  
  
“Uh… we’re here for the party.” Jet and Sokka spun around back to the door. Standing just outside was a tall, very muscled and tanned man with long smooth brown hair tied back into a topknot. Standing just next to him, attached to the taller one’s lips, was a slighter shorter man, equally tanned, with boyish good looks and long brown hair that hung messily around his head, shielding one eye entirely from view.  
  
“Who are you?” Jet asked cautiously.  
  
“Don’t you know who we are?” The taller one said, quickly returning to sucking the shorter one’s face.  
  
“Demi and Ashton?” Sokka said with mock excitement.  
  
“No. We’re Chan and Rion Juan,” Chan said matter-of-factly.  
  
“Yeah!” Rion Juan remarked, returning to Chan’s tongue hastily.  
  
“Yeaaaah… that means nothing to us,” Jet rolled his eyes.  
  
“CHAN! RION JUAN!” Suki squealed, “I’m so glad you could make it!”  
  
They acknowledged her presence swiftly, before – again -- returning to their game of suck face.  
  
“You know these douche bags?” Sokka said with horror.  
  
“Yeah, they work with me,” she answered brightly.  
  
“Both of them?” Jet scoffed. She nodded. “You work at a retirement village! Do they act like this there?”  
  
“Yep,” she whispered huskily, taking a very liberal sip of her champagne.  
  
“Do they actually talk to you?”  
  
“Nope.” Another sip.  
  
“So why’d you invite them?”  
  
“They’re fun to look at,” she said seriously, narrowing her eyes and making a small noise of enjoyment. “Okay boys, let’s get some alcohol into you.”  
  
Suki skipped away; Chan and Rion Juan half-skipped, half sucked face.   
  
“Don’t you be getting any bodily fluids on the couch! I just cleaned!” Jet yelled after them. Chan, with a free eye, scowled.  
  
Sokka giggled, ripping the doorknob from the wall and slamming the door closed.  
  
Zuko stuck his head out of the kitchen. “Excuse me, but I believe I was the one who cleaned.”  
  
Jet stared at him for a couple of seconds. Jet couldn’t put his finger on it, but Zuko seemed to have gotten inexplicably hotter in the past fifteen minutes. Maybe it was the alcohol? Jet decided it was the alcohol. The uneasy feeling in his stomach rose again. He slowly turned to face the wall, before thumping his head against it, physically driving from his head the images of Zuko spread naked on a cracker.  
  
Sokka raised an eyebrow.  
  
Jet removed his head from the wall, turning back to Zuko and smiling politely. “Yes,” he said slowly, completely devoid of tone.  
  
Zuko raised an eyebrow, slowly withdrawing his head back into the kitchen.  
  
“What was that?” Sokka said confusedly.   
  
**Gimmie Gimmie MOAR!**  
  
“People,” Jet said blankly, raising his left arm slowly in the direction of the door.  
  
Sokka lifted his chin and narrowed his eyes – suspiciously gazing down at Jet. “People,” Sokka affirmed, nodding and turning around to open the door.  
  
“Sweetie!”  
  
“Yue! I’m so glad you made it!” Sokka threw himself around Yue.  
  
“I’m glad I made it too – even if that means I’m on bedpan duty for a month,” she said sweetly.  
  
“Oh. Ouch. Wilma?”  
  
“Wilma,” Yue sighed.  
  
“Burrrrrn!”  
  
“Speaking of burns…” Came a voice that Sokka knew all too well; cocky, irritating and punctuated with bellowing triumphant affirmations. Sokka pushed Hahn’s face into the nearest wall before turning back to Yue, enraged.   
  
“You brought him?!”  
  
“What the hell were you doing texting me then? You know perfectly well that he reads my text messages!”  
  
“I thought you started taking your phone into the shower with you!”  
  
“He gets in there with me! Ever since the Picklegate fiasco—,”  
  
“How did that even affect you?” Jet piped in.   
  
Yue looked at him as though he already knew the answer. Sokka conceded, letting go of the back of Hahn’s head.  
  
“You know, that should’ve hurt, but it didn’t. Did I tell you about the time I fell into a fire, face-first, four years ago?”  
  
“Yes,” Yue and Sokka sighed in unison.  
  
“And you lived through it,” Sokka added, “You are truly an inspiration.”  
  
“Thanks, Sekka. haHA! Ha. HAHA.” Hahn announced triumphantly.  
  
Sokka pulled a corkscrew from his pocket, raising it above his head menacingly. “Sekka? Time to pay the corkage fee—“  
  
Yue interjected, shoving Hahn aggressively out of the way of Sokka’s violently swinging corkscrew. “Honey,” she growled through grit teeth, “can you please go get me something from the car?”  
  
“Sure, what?” He replied blissfully.  
  
“Surprise me,” she said bluntly.   
  
“No problems, love you.” He went for the kiss, which Yue calmly and elegantly evaded before he bounded out the door, tripping over a doorstop and face-planting into the driveway. He got up quickly and turned to face them with a wide grin. “Hah, hah, that didn’t hurt—,” Sokka slammed the door.  
  
“Why the hell are you dating him?” Sokka hissed.  
  
“It’s an arranged marriage, there’s nothing I can do about it!”  
  
“People still have arranged marriages?”  
  
“Apparently they do. My ma threatened to die when I said I didn’t want to marry him.”  
  
“She threatens to die all the time!”  
  
“I know.” Yue sighed, defeated, “it’s my Jewish guilt.”  
  
“You’re not a Jew.”  
  
“My great uncle is.”  
  
Sokka narrowed his eyes, “Okay,” he said brightly. “Let’s go get liquored up!”  
  
“UH! PLEASE! Something stiff… for once.” She laughed at her own funny.  
  
Yue and Sokka laughed all the way to the kitchen -- and then some -- leaving Jet by the door, reflecting on the events that had just occurred. Who the hell was Yue? And Wilma? And Hahn? He felt as though he really didn’t know much about Sokka anymore.  
  
 **Gimmie Gimmie MOOAARR!**  
  
Jet flinched, and then scolded himself for flinching at Britney – he made a quick inward apology to the Britney God (Master of all Gods). He opened the door cautiously, wary of where the night had been going so far.  
  
“JET!!!” Yelled the all-too-familiar combined voices of Moira and Sera.  
  
Moira – for once not looking bored – was busy slapping Sera’s hand away from her butt. Sera – newly proclaimed lesbian, and oddly enough still covered in dip and flour – was busy trying to grope Moira.  
  
“Oh hhheeeeeyyyyyy,” Jet whinnied drunkenly.  
  
“GET THE FUCK OFF MY ASS, SERA!” Moira screeched, slapping Sera’s hand away, again.  
  
“What? What? I’m a lesbian now! And have been, ever since the great Picklegate fiasco,” she replied, dumbfounded.  
  
Moira rolled her eyes, “Yes, I know. Everyone is now! Apparently it’s the new cool thing. And I told you, I would try it that one time. I’m done. I didn’t hate it, but I’m done now,” she said calmly.  
  
Jet’s jaw dropped, unable to verbalise anything coherent, except “Vagina?”  
  
Sera looked at him quizzically, “Yes, honey. Vagina.”  
  
“Have you told your husband about this, Moira?!!!”  
  
“Are you kidding me? He was there. He watched from a chair.”  
  
“Your husband? That horny bastard, I would’ve thought that he would have wanted to get in on that?”  
  
“Oh, he tried hon, but Sera kept kicking him away. With her foot, which is oddly huge,” Moira looked uncomfortable, slowly rolling her eyes down to Sera’s foot.  
  
Jet was equally uncomfortable, but followed her gaze. “Wow,” he said, shocked, “huge.”  
  
After a long silence, he directed them to the drinks. “THANKS JET!” Sera shouted.  
  
Jet was still too uncomfortable to reply, unable to shake his gaze away from her foot. Her huge, titan-like foot. Never had he seen such a giant foot, well, not since the great Picklegate fiasco.  
  
 **Gimmie Gimmie MOOOAAARRR!!**  
  
Jet flinched, yet again. He was way to sober to talk to these people. He opened the door slowly, peering out into the night. Unfortunately, it didn’t really work, as the door flew open and jammed in the wall again.  
  
“THE PARTY CAN STTTTAAAAAARRRRTTTT!”  
  
“Sokka, your dad is here.” Jet sighed, rolling his eyes.  
  
Hakoda, wielding a bottle of Jack in each hand, greeted Jet with a whack on the head. “HOW YA’ DOIN’ KID?!!!”  
  
“You’re loud,” Jet replied with a smile.  
  
“Hey dad,” Sokka said cheerily.  
  
Hakoda looked Sokka up and down, noting the gold underwear. “Hey son, still a fag, huh?”  
  
“Yep.”  
  
“Well, every hole’s a goal.”  
  
There was a pause. “Ew.” Jet said bluntly.  
  
“Where’s Katara?” Hakoda asked.  
  
“She’s crying in her car,” Sokka replied matter-of-factly.  
  
Hakoda made a sickly noise, and took a very long swig of his Jack Daniels. “What was it this time? Fern? A mention of the Picklegate fiasco? Her boyfriend was the instigator, you know,” he informed excitedly.  
  
“Jet, apparently.”  
  
Hakoda looked him up and down, “Jet looks nothing like him…”  
  
“We know,” they replied in unison.  
  
“Well, every hole’s a goal.”  
  
There was another pause.  
  
“Ew,” Jet said again.  
  
“How is that relevant? Are you even listening to us, Dad?”  
  
“I WAWNA SEE SOME TITIES! WHUT!” He screamed to the rooftop, barrelling into the kitchen.  
  
“DAD PLEASE DON’T HIT ON MY FRIENDS!” Sokka ran after him, deeply, deeply concerned.  
  
Hakoda had already disappeared into the crowd. Another long pause. Jet was now completely alone, next to the now non-functional door. “Ew,” he said faintly to himself.  
  
Jet scanned the room and gave a half-smile to Zuko who bounded towards him apparently drunk and happy – it was kinda cute, in like... a lost giraffe with a crooked neck kinda way.  
  
“HEY JET! SHOW ME YA’ TEETH!”  
  
“What?”  
  
“It’s a Dame Judy Dench song!” Jet went to speak, but decided against it, just in case he said something that he would regret. “Why do you look so pissy?” Zuko asked curiously.  
  
“I’m not pissy,” Jet replied pissily.  
  
Zuko narrowed his eyes. Maybe his vision blurred, Jet would never know. “I got you a drink!” Zuko beamed, thrusting the drink towards him, spilling half of it on the floor.  
  
“What is this?” Jet asked suspiciously.  
  
“Wine.”  
  
“Seriously? Seriously. SERIOUSLY!” Jet had been looking for an excuse to try out his newly mastered Meredith Grey impression for quite some time.  
  
“What’s wrong with wine?”  
  
“Are you a middle-aged woman, Zuko?”  
  
“Maybe,” he slurred, drool pooling at the sides of his mouth.  
  
“You’re cute,” Jet laughed, as Zuko sucked the drool back into his mouth. Jet quickly disposed of the wine, into a nearby fern. The fern made a vague wheezing noise, before keeling over and dying.  
  
“My fern!” Zuko exclaimed in abject horror.  
  
Jet instantly felt terrible. Poor Zuko loved that fern. “Zuko can you please get me something strong and unmixed?  
  
“Like a tequila shot?”  
  
“Yes, exactly like a tequila shot. Except bring the bottle, hold the shot glass, and the lime, and the salt,” Jet said firmly.  
  
Zuko flitted away.  
  
 **GIMMIE GIMMIE MOOOOOOAAAAARRRRRRRRR!!**  
  
Jet groaned. What fresh hell was coming his way now? He looked at the door, and then at the kitchen. Then back at the door. Standing in the door way was Haru. He stared at Jet, an expectant smile on his face, and a bottle of non-alcoholic red wine-flavoured soda water in his hand. Jet stared at Haru, then looked to the kitchen, then to Suki, then back at Haru and after a moments contemplation, fled the scene. Haru didn’t have much time to consider Jet’s behaviour before being pounced on by Suki.  
  
Thanking the Britney God that he had escaped in time, Jet re-entered the kitchen. He was surprised to see that there were quite a few people in the house that he didn’t remember letting in through the front door. He questioned his sanity for a brief moment, until he saw the Order of the White Lotus (some sort of old man’s chess club type thing) climb through several open windows. “Oh, okay,” Jet said pleasantly to himself, relieved that he was not in fact crazy.  
  
“Oh good, Haru is here and the party can start.” Sokka said with mock excitement. “What is he armed with this time? Water?”  
  
“Non-alcoholic, red wine flavoured soda water. And a gherkin.” Jet confirmed. He and Sokka eyed each other for a moment and then, in unison, commenced a one-minute dance break.   
  
Zuko was watching them, puzzled and still a little miffed about his fern. “You know, you guys are just like the cast of I Love Lucy if they were put on the set of Mr. Belvedere if Mr. Belvedere was set in the 90’s as opposed to the 80’s and Mr. Belvedere himself was gay.”   
  
This ended the one minute dance break as Jet needed to devote his entire concentration into deciphering what Zuko had just said. Sokka went back to burying himself in a crowd of hags – who adored him.   
  
Zuko went to speak again, but Jet silenced him, pressing a finger to Zuko’s lips. “Don’t speak. Just dance.” He whispered. Zuko went to object, but Jet pressed his finger harder onto Zuko’s lips. Zuko shrugged and retreated to the dance floor (the lounge room rug), excited and adorable.  
  
Jet headed over to join him and then stopped in his tracks. Feeling like he was in an episode of Seinfeld, he watched, bewildered, as Zuko commenced with a series of triple-twists/thumb-kicks/tumble-thrusts/h

ead-jerks. He wasn’t sure whether to be amused or embarrassed and settled for both.

However the pressure of figuring out his next move was alleviated when Sokka burst through the crowd, screaming “I’M A NURSE! IT’S OK, HE’S GOING TO BE OK! GIVE HIM SOME ROOM!” Yue ran to his aid, eager to get away from Hahn and together they grabbed Zuko and forced him onto the ground. Yue was forcing her fist into Zuko mouth, and Sokka was working on handcuffing Zuko underneath the dining table.

“Wait, I thought… Wasn’t he just dancing with Jet…?” Haru asked confusedly.

Jet, not wanting to have the stigma of being associated with said activity immediately denied it. “No… no, no, no, I don’t know what happened.” Zuko death-stared Jet, struggling underneath Sokka, who misinterpreted this as further seizing and held him down more forcefully.

“Why are you handcuffing him to the dining table?” Haru asked.

“We are nurses! Shut up, Haru!” Sokka spat back at him.

“I’m just saying, I’ve seen a lot of medical shows; Scrubs, House, Greys Anatomy, Ugly Betty, and I’ve never seen them handcuff anyone to a table!”

“In the hospital we use proper restraints; I just had these on me--Ugly Betty?” Yue straightened up, looking into the air contemplatively. “Wait... she’s not a doctor!”

Katara wailed. “HE HAD A DINING TABLE TOOOOOOOO!” Hakoda groaned loudly.

“And why is your fist in his mouth?”

“It’s so he doesn’t choke on his tongue. Duh.” Yue said pointedly.

“He looks like he can’t breathe, that’s all...”

“He has a nose,” Yue replied dryly. Zuko, realising that he had a nose, stopped struggling.  
 **  
GIMMMIE GIMMMIE MMMOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRR!!!**

All present, besides Sokka, Suki and Jet, shrieked and/or jumped at the increased volume of the doorbell. An old man, who looked weathered and jolly, stood in the doorway with a woman who had wise eyes and a knowing smile. The man seemed unsure as to whether the events transpiring in the living room were reality or some kind of re-enactment or dramatization. He took initiative. _Clap, clap, clap._ “That was the best and most passionate performance of Macbeth I’ve seen in all my years!”

Everyone in the room eyed him confusedly and was silent for a full 50 seconds before erupting in cheer and resuming the party. Zuko wriggled, kicked and clawed his way out of Sokka and Yue’s iron grip to stand and get a better look at the man and woman in the doorway. “… Uncle?”

Zuko’s uncle Iroh beamed and embraced Zuko in an almighty bear hug and then held him at an arm’s length, smiling warmly.

“Uncle what are you doing here? Who invited you?” Zuko asked, although happy to see his uncle, Zuko was once again flabbergasted and mildly irritated by this breach of privacy.

“Is it so bad that I came here to see my nephew?”

“Uncle, who invited you?” Zuko asked again, forcefully.

“Jet did, if you must know, which is more than I can say for you.” Iroh scolded, before grinning cheekily. “Jet’s a nice boy, by the way. Is he your boyfriend?”

“Uncle!” Zuko blushed, miffed once again.

“Iroh!” Jet called from across the room. He ran over and he and Iroh embraced warmly as if they were old friends. Zuko watched, stunned, his mouth agape. After the epic greeting hug, Jet seized the opportunity to throw an olive into Zuko’s mouth – Jet had always prided himself on having impeccable aim. Zuko coughed and spluttered, choking. Iroh thumped him on the back, sending him face first onto the floor.

“How did you…? When did you…? Are you guys like… friends?” Zuko was confused and annoyed.

“Well, I called looking for you, Jet answered and we got to talking. What’s the problem?”

“Uncle, do you have to butt into everything I do?” Zuko asked in that whiny voice that Jet was beginning to hate a little bit.

“What’s the big deal? You told me all about him anyway.” Iroh said obviously. Zuko, well aware that Jet was looking at him, instantly avoided Jet’s eye.

Jet decided to avoid the awkwardness and turned to the woman standing beside Iroh. “You must be Aunt Wu, I’m Jet.” He said, holding out his hand.

“I’m aware of that.” She said oddly, taking his hand.

Jet stared confusedly. “… Ok, we’re just kind of holding hands now…” He said.

“I’m aware of that.” She said again.

Jet looked at Iroh, who was smiling, then back at Aunt Wu. “… Ok…” he removed his hand and they were all silent for a moment. Deciding to change the subject once again, Jet asked: “So why does everyone call you Aunt Wu?”

“Oh, I don’t know. It was just something that came out of nowhere and stuck.”

“HEY WU!” Suki called from across the room. _How does Suki know her? Why does Suki know everyone?! I bet it has something to do with fucking Picklegate._ Jet thought to himself. He looked over to Suki, who confirmed this thought with a nod.

“AUNT WU!” She shrieked back. Jet and Zuko jumped at her unexpected volume, while Iroh remained pleasant. Without asking direction, Aunt Wu led Iroh towards the drinks. On the way, she stopped, looking as though something had just occurred to her and held her hand out to stop Iroh in his tracks as a chainsaw flew past them through the air. They both seemed remarkably unsurprised by this and continued walking, Aunt Wu calmly moving her handbag to her other shoulder as Ty Lee pranced past her.

Jet turned to Zuko. “So, you told your uncle all about me, aye?”

“Well,” Zuko said sheepishly, “he asked.”

It was at this point that everything began happening in slow motion.

**GIMMMMIE** … The windows shook.

Jet looked up at Zuko darkly and then turned around to see Sokka and Suki running towards them. He noticed that the house was beginning to shake.

**GIMMMMIE…** The couch vibrated across the room and into the kitchen – shoving Hahn head first into the oven, which Yue attempted to subtly close.

Jet turned back around and the three of them ran towards the door. Zuko looked as though he feared the end was coming as the house began to rumble.

**MMMMMOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA--**

Jet watched, amazed, as Suki literally punched through the wall and yanked out the doorbell, holding it above her head triumphantly. Zuko looked flabbergasted once again by his roommates, and couldn’t word his question. The dust settled, and everyone resumed the festivities.

“Yeah, it does this all the time.” Sokka answered the unasked question. “It just always gets louder and louder before it eventually explodes and then we put in a new doorbell and start all over again. We went through five doorframes before we figured it out.”

“… Why don’t you just fix the problem?” Zuko asked, astounded.

“Eh, cheaper to just put in a new doorbell; we have a cupboard full of ‘em. The guy who quoted us to fix it said it was because that lamp over there uses WAY too much power.” Sokka pointed to an absurdly large lamp in the entrance-way. Jet wondered why Zuko hadn’t noticed it before.

“… So unplug the lamp!”

“I like that lamp!” Sokka bellowed.

“Leave the lamp alone,” Jet whispered to Zuko, “it’s made of his grandmother’s bones.”

“Really?”

“No.” Jet said flatly. They all stood in the doorway as Suki began happily piecing the wall back together. Just then, there was ominous creaking above them and they all looked up. Jet could see that the roof was becoming unstuck. Actually unstuck. As in the gum, blu-tak, supa-glu and hope holding it together were giving up. Sokka and Jet immediately dove out of the line of fire; however Zuko remained, staring up in wonder.

“Dude, move!” Jet yelled.

“What?” Zuko asked innocently. Just then, a chunk of the roof collapsed onto Zuko, burying him in plaster, cork and Mintie wrappers.

“You ok, Zuko?” Sokka asked, worried.

“Yeah…” came the wavering voice. It sounded to Jet as though Zuko was trying not to cry. Poor baby… Jet thought adoringly.

Zuko’s arms popped out of the top of the wreckage as Sokka turned to Jet. “Hmm… I’m surprised the roof lasted as long as it did… dude, we should really fix this house…”

“It’s fine! It has charm!” Jet said defensively.

“Charm is an ambience. It’s not something that falls on you all the time…”

At this point Zuko was desperately fanning dust from his face and apparently couldn’t see anything. It was kind of adorable.

Jet and Sokka seemed to realise at once that someone had actually rung the doorbell before all this had happened and turned to see a plain looking girl with long black hair and a pale, sallow face staring blankly at them. Jet stared back at her. Why hadn’t she said anything?

 

“Um… hi…” Jet tried.

“Hi.” She sighed, continuing to stare.

There was silence again. “… Did you want something?”

She sighed again. “Ugh, a change of skin, perhaps…”

Jet and Sokka exchanged looks, both equally confused. Who the hell is this? Jet thought, annoyed. There was a very long pause as Jet looked at Sokka, Sokka looked at her, she looked at Jet, Jet looked back at her and no one looked at Zuko, who was still fanning dust from his face.

“Um... We don’t have drugs… And we don’t keep cash in the house… And nothing here is worth stealing, except maybe that lamp… I strongly advise against stealing that lamp…” Jet said awkwardly.

She sighed. Again. “Ugh, I’m here for the party.”

Jet looked her up and down. “… You don’t look like it.” He said flatly.

Zuko had finally managed to fan all of the dust away from his face and was adjusting to his surroundings when the girl sighed again. At the sound, Zuko’s head jerked up. “Oh… fuck.”

“Hey Zuko,” she sighed again. This one was oddly impressive, as it lasted a good minute.

_Who the hell sighs for a full minute? She must have massive lungs. My god… she’s the devil. My grandmother always warned about women with large lungs._

“Jet,” Sokka whispered harshly.

“I’m here,” he replied quickly.

“Where were you?”

“Nowhere special,” Jet sighed, it hurt. He cursed his small smoke-damaged lungs.

“What are you doing here?!” Zuko yelled, apparently channelling the wrath of the Karen Walker God.

“What are you doing here?” She sighed back, sighing(?).

“I LIVE HERE!”

“I’m allowed to go to parties, Zuko. You don’t own me,” She said flatly, Jet could tell she was inwardly sighing.

_Now she’s just showing off._

“I have never once known you to party, you’re usually too busy knitting in your fucking rocking chair.” he said maliciously. Jet absorbed the passion in his voice, leaning slightly closer to get a better view of the raw, uninhibited beauty that was Angry Zuko. “Get it? You’re boring.”

_Oh no he didn’t! Hahaha, love it. Who is this vampiric bitch anyway?_

“If I could afford to lose the moisture, I would cry from the laughter that’s building up inside me,” she said blankly. “Cry -- like you do after sex. Only less.”

Everyone looked at Zuko, except Suki, who was hammering a nail into the wall with her stiletto.

“Firstly, you’re physically incapable of laughter. Secondly, THAT WAS ONE TIME! I FELL ONTO AN UPRIGHT NAIL! THE DOCTORS SAID I WAS LUCKY TO STILL BE WALKING! IT HURT!”

“There was no nail, Zuko.”

“THERE WAS A NAIL! I SHOWED IT TO YOU! WHILST IT WAS STILL IN MY SPINE! WHO INVITED YOU ANYWAY, MAI?”

_Mai? As in… Mai? The starfishing gorilla ex-girlfriend bitch extraordinaire? That Mai? Or a different one? Intrigued, Jet leaned in just a little further. Accidently catching a whiff of Mai, he leaned straight back, wrinkling his nose and suppressing the urge to vomit. Why does she smell like Dick... Cheney._ Jet giggled to himself. But seriously, Cheney smells bad.

“MAI!” Suki, who had finally finished gluing and thumping the wall back together, realised that there was a fight going on. She ran towards Mai, throwing an unavoidable hug around her. Mai attempted to dodge, but Suki proved crafty and ensnared her. Mai wriggled and squirmed, and attempted to plunge a concealed blade into Suki’s neck – Suki once again proved crafty, dodging the stabs calmly and gracefully, as if she were swaying to the Night of the Dancing Flame.

“YOU INVITED HER?” Zuko was aghast – betrayed, by his own roommate.

“Ah, c’mon Zuko, she probably didn’t know,” Sokka attempted to reason.

“Oh, she knew,” Jet eyed Suki, who attempted to evade his gaze.

“What? What’s going on? You two used to go out? I had no idea,” Suki said airily, waving her arms in the air.

“I never said anything about going out with her,” Zuko narrowed his eyes.

“Dammit,” she whispered harshly to herself. “Fine, I knew. But she’s my friend; I couldn’t just not invite her!”

Mai sighed. They looked her expectantly... there was no follow up.

“How do you even know her?” Zuko asked.

“Well… since Picklegate,” Suki said dreamily, looking up at the roof to collect her thoughts. Jet groaned. “When I was driving, I got a call from the Cabbage Merchant – you know, Weshena? My Stalker? Anyway, she called me, whilst I was trying to eat my cheeseburger – this was all before the actual pickle incident of course…”

“GET TO THE POINT!” Zuko boomed, clearly miffed.

“I know Ty Lee, Ty Lee knows Azula and Azula knows Mai.”

“You know Azula?” Zuko’s eyes nearly popped out of his head – evidently even more miffed by this news.

“Yeah, I invited her tonight.”

“WHAT?”

“She’s parking the car,” Mai said brightly. Jet looked confusedly at her. After a minute of absolute silence and staring, she sighed. Jet was oddly relieved – as if the sigh had become his heartbeat.

They all turned to look at Zuko, but he was already gone. Jet followed the cloud of plaster dust, that had formed a Zuko-like shape every metre or so to the kitchen. They all looked into the kitchen.

“UNCLE!” Zuko yelled, “SHE’S HERE!”

“I HEARD!” Iroh replied, smashing a teapot against a bench.

“Wow, Uncle. I was just letting you know… so, you know… you could avoid her or something. I definitely did not mean arm yourself.”

“Zuko, that bitch is crazy and needs to go down. Last time I saw her she pulled a knife on me!”

“Uncle, how many times do I have to tell you that did not happen? She did not pull a knife on you, she was buttering her toast.”

“ON MY NECK?”

“Yeah… it’s kinda her process,” he looked off into the distance, his face a collage of gassy faces and horror.

Jet made a mental note to buy some more milk, steal another teapot from the restaurant, and ask Zuko about this whole neck-toast-buttering thing. Jet liked making lists. Jet liked making lists very much. He hummed his satisfaction, but was abruptly interrupted with a rough shove into a nearby wall.

“What the fuck?” Jet yelped, massaging his now very sore forehead. He spun around to see Mai walking away, her middle finger raised in the air for him to see. Fury, or bile, or possibly furious bile, rose in his throat. He could hit her. No one would care. He could push into the fireplace, just like those retarded children did to that old crone who lived at the end of the street in a gingerbread house. Jet decided against this, and not because he didn’t own a fireplace, because he was kind of afraid of her – she was walking… but Jet couldn’t see her feet moving. It was as if she was hovering along the ground.

Jet decided to fetch his stash of holy water. He’d watched enough Supernatural to know that if there is someone that you instinctively distrust, they’re probably a demon. Or sometimes the demons are the people you do trust, which is why Jet blessed the shower water at 4:00am every morning.

“Suki, why’d you invite her? Zuko lives here! He doesn’t need this. She brought his sister!” Sokka’s voice was tired, even angry. He clearly felt bad for Zuko. Jet had no idea that Zuko confided in Sokka about his sister or Mai. Then again, Jet didn’t know about most things that occurred between the hours of 12am and 12pm. Apart from the fact that the shower water would get blessed between those hours.

“I don’t... I guess I just wasn’t thinking.”

“You were being selfish.” Sokka accused.

“Sokka, I’m sorry.” Suki’s eyes darted to the ground, as if she were trying to find a convenient explanation for her actions lying on the floor. Jet could even see that she was blinking back a single guilty tear.

“Don’t apologise to me, Suki! Apologise to Zuko! I can’t believe you did this! Selfish!” Sokka pressed on, getting louder with each and every word.

Suki cracked. She grabbed Sokka’s accusing finger and pulled him in close. “You’re not one to be calling anyone selfish, Sokka! You’re so wrapped up in your little hospital world that you don’t even give a shit about us anymore.” Her eyes were wild, furious, and feline – Jet knew this meant danger.

“Sorry I can’t ignore all the sick people to come approve your choice of clothes every day,” he retorted dryly.

Suki opened her mouth to retaliate, but was violently shoved to the floor before she could say a word “What the dick?” She yelled loudly. She looked around confusedly. Never in her whole life had she been shoved to the floor in such a non-sexual manner.

Jet had seen the whole thing in slow motion. It was kind of funny. The culprit, who was emitting an odd gurgling noise, had shuffled through the door, with his head down, before moments later tripping over Suki and then rolling into the fireplace, which Jet had drawn onto the wall with crayon.

Suki spotted the odd man, getting up slowly and pulling a knife from between her boobs. “Let’s do this,” she said in a deep husky voice, licking the blade seductively.

Jet grabbed the knife, “Calm down, Suki. It was accident.”

“Cuh, fine.” she said grumpily, “If you need me I’ll be on, I mean... with... Haru.” Just as she was out of each shot, Sokka and Jet groaned in unison.

“Who was he?” Sokka said, suppressing a small giggle.

“I have no idea,” Jet replied, “but I’m going to find out. Look at this trail of drool! Who does that?”

“I’m not cleaning that up,” Sokka said disgustedly, “I get enough of that at work.”

“Cleaning drool?”

“And poop.”

And with that, Jet left. He followed the drool curiously, almost excited to know where it led – forgetting briefly that he knew his way around his own house. That was when he noticed the yelling. Jet rushed into the kitchen, afraid that Suki had brought the knife out again.

“AND WHO THE FUCK IS THIS?” Zuko yelled.

Mai sighed loudly, it shook the windows with its power. “This is my new boyfriend, Frothing-At-Mouth-guy.”

Jet wondered why she called him Frothing-At-Mouth-guy, up until he started frothing violently at the mouth. He flung his arms in the air and threw himself against a wall, convulsing and... frothing madly.

“Uh… is he okay?” Zuko asked, puzzled and worried.

“He’s fine,” Mai exhaled noisily (A/N: “sigh” doesn’t even sound like a word anymore), “don’t look at him. He understands me.”

“Is that how he shows it?” Jet muttered to Suki, who was pulling some of her belongings out of Ty Lee’s handbag.

The whole party had stopped to stare at Mai and Zuko. Admittedly, it was quite interesting. There was mouth frothing, and loud exhaling, and even some Angry Zuko. _Mmm, Angry Zuko_ , Jet thought to himself.

“What is there to understand about you Mai? There is nothing to you! You’re completely one dimensional! You’re just a big pale sighing blah!”

“Yeah, well, you’re impotent,” Mai hissed.

Zuko flushed red. “We both know that that is not true.”

“Whatever, Zuko,” Mai sighed yet again.

They both stared at each other for a little while.

“Bonus night?” Zuko suggested.

Mai sighed in agreement. They both left the kitchen, leaving Mai’s boyfriend… well, frothing at the mouth and violently bashing his head against a wall.

Jet had no idea what just happened. _What the hell is a bonus night? Is that some kind of queer-straight thing?_ He shrugged. Maybe by “bonus night”, he meant “Come this way and prepare your skull as I’m going to bash your head in”. Jet hoped so. Dearly.

“FROOOOOOOOOOTH!!” Yelled Frothing-At-Mouth guy from the floor.

Oh, yeah. Jet turned to examine Frothing-At-Mouth guy, who was sitting cross-legged and looking up at Jet in the middle of the kitchen floor. He was still for a moment, before squirting a small amount of froth out of the corner of his mouth.

Jet stared confusedly. “Are… you ok?”

“Yeah,” Frothing-At-Mouth guy replied simply. “I’m fine. I just need to be left alone for a while.”

“Do you want to go and… froth… outside?”

“No. I’d like to stay here. Could you please throw a rug over me?”

Jet looked down his nose at him. After a long, contemplative pause he said “Very well, sir. I will play your game.” Jet then threw a rug over Frothing-At-Mouth guy, who was motionless underneath. Jet stared for a moment and then got the salt from the pantry and drew a line of salt around him.

“Everyone!” Jet called to the room. “This is very important; do not break this line of salt! I’m serious, for the rest of the night, the line of salt surrounding this guy must not be broken or the repercussions will be catastrophic!”

Twelve Shots Later

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Jet licked the last of the salt off of the floor before shotting his tequila and then biting into a lime, draining it’s juice until it was a but a pale green husk on the floor. Frothing-At-Mouth guy was still motionless under his rug. Jet got up, steadying himself against the kitchen bench and surveyed his surroundings.

Ty Lee was busy attempting to smuggle an armchair out the door, but Suki had caught on and jumped onto her back. They eyed each other for a moment and then scragged. It was epic. After Suki ripped out a chunk of Ty Lee’s eyebrow they stopped and eyed each other again, before making out violently. It was weird. Toph and her girlfriend were making out aggressively in the corner, so much so that Toph was actually brutally pulling chunks out of the couch. _Oh, isn’t that sweet?_ Jet thought to himself. Sera had managed to sneakily remove Moira’s bra without her noticing, and was now smelling it in a corner. Hakoda and Yue were flirting intensely, much to Hahn’s dismay and Sokka’s disgust. Aunt Wu knocked back a martini and spat the toothpick out on Haru, who stood in the middle of the living room awkwardly and scratched his head.

However, Jet’s attention was captured by the intense knife fight that was happening between Azula and Iroh. They circled each other, Azula glaring menacingly, Iroh smiling pleasantly, but with an edge! Azula lunged then backflipped, Iroh ducked then slashed. They circled some more, then Iroh took initiative and threw a punch. Azula stopped this by biting his fist. Iroh didn’t hesitate; he seized the chance and threw her across the room. Azula, however, managed to land on her feet, poised and ready, like a praying mantis. Jet lost interest.

“FROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOTH!!”

“What?” Jet looked around, confused. The voice had not come from Frothing-At-Mouth guy, as he was still motionless under the rug and this voice was more piercing. And female. Maybe.

Standing in the doorway, with a gnarled and bony finger outstretched toward Frothing-At-Mouth guy, was a beast. Jet’s immediate instinct was to call Sam & Dean, as standing before him was a creature of darkness, like none he had ever seen before. He prepared his damaged lungs to scream “rape”, then Sokka walked in front of him, mouth agape.

“What… the… fu--,” Sokka started.

“THAT GUY IS FROTHING! I WOULD KNOW -- I’M A DOCTOR!” She shimmied violently, her left boob (the right fastened to her left knee) hit a nearby vase, obliterating it on impact. Jet reached for the salt bottle, finding it to be empty from all the tequila slammers.

“Crap!” he whispered, looking for something pointy and wooden.

The demon shimmed toward Sokka, who stood motionless and wide-eyed. _Oh no! She has ensnared him!_ Jet snapped off a chair leg and armed himself.

“Hello Nurse Sokka,” said the demon, “one who has seen THE EYE!!!”

“What eye?” He cowered.

“That guy in 304,” she said casually, “pretty nasty eye infection, huh?”

“Yes, Chief Dunaway”

“CHIEF-OF-MEDICINE!!!”

“Sorry,” he cried, “Chief-of-Medicine Dunaway.”

“FAYE!!!”

“CHIEF-OF-MEDICINE FAYE DUNAWAY!” Sokka dropped to his knees, sobbing and guarding his face.

“YOU KNOW THIS,” She stuck a finger into his chest. “Ooh,” she paused and narrowed her eyes seductively, “déjà vu.” She was still for a moment, and then shimmied away into the darkness.

Jet had been watching, confused and still holding the chair leg, and couldn’t help but wonder what the hell kind of hospital Sokka worked at. “Uh… Sokka…” Jet approached Sokka, who was now rocking backwards and forwards on the ground.

“DON’T ASK,” Sokka wailed, clutching his chest, “And don’t tell.”

Jet whirled around to close the door, only to find himself nose-to-nose with a punk-looking girl.

“June?” he whispered.

“Hello homo,” she said pointedly.

“JUNE!” He threw a hug around her, which she didn’t reciprocate. “You finally came to one of our parties! I’m so happy you could make it!”

She pushed him into a wall. “I didn’t come for you, I came for the bitch.”

“What bitch?” He asked, concerned.

“You know the bitch!”

“There’s no bitch.”

“There’s a bitch. Where’s the bitch? The bitch who stole my boyfriend.” As she said this, Ty Lee pranced into view. June narrowed her eyes viciously. “There’s the bitch,” she growled.

Ty Lee looked at June, with a too-wide smile, that threatened to engulf her face. “Oh hey, June,” she said joyously. Moments passed. “Fuck,” she whispered pleasantly.

June balled up her hands into tight fists. She punched the nearest wall, which just happened to be mere centimetres away from Jet’s head. She pulled out an old forgotten doorbell, crushing it in her fingers and throwing it to the ground. She let out an almighty roar and lunged at Ty Lee.

Jet looked at the wall. “People need to stop doing that,” he said, sadly. The wall would have to wait for now; there was a girl fight happening.

Ty Lee and June were locked in a death grip, both screaming in what was either pain or anger. Most likely angry pain.

There’s about to be a girl fight…

The music roared, obliterating yet another nearby vase. “SOKKA!” Jet screamed, “That’s very inappropriate.”

“But there’s about to be... a what?”

“A girl fight,” Suki confirmed.

A mass of people walked into the living room, having heard that there was about to be (A/N: A what?) a girl fight.

“Well, as long as they’re fighting… WHO WANTS TO MAKE BETS?” Suki hollered.

“I GOT 20 ON JUNE!”

“50 ON TY LEE! IVE SEEN THAT GIRL TIE HERSELF IN A KNOT… it’s kinda hawt.”

“NO WAY MAN, JUNE HAS THE MOST POWERFUL THIGHS I HAVE EVER ENCOUNTERED!”

“Well, who do you think is gonna win?” Jet whispered to Sokka.

“Yeah, I’m gonna go for Ty Lee. She may steal our shit, but you know... we go way back.”

“WHOA! WHERE DID HER LEGS GO?”

“Oh… there they are.”

“I feel like we shouldn’t be watching this… NO WAY, IS HER FOOT IN HER MOUTH?”

“No, that’s ridiculous… oh, wow it is.”

“Is it wrong that I’m completely aroused by this?”

“I want her face.” Chief-Of-Medicine Faye Dunaway stated matter-of-factly.

“Oh, down Ty Lee goes.”

“Whoa, good recovery, right in the vag.”

“Yeah, I don’t think June is coming back from that.”

“Oh, yep, she did.”

“THE BOULDER HAS ARRIVED!” A large man stood in the doorway with his arms triumphantly raised in the air. Once he saw the girls, however, he lowered his arms cautiously.

The fight stopped. Both girls slowly lowered their arms, spitting out respective bloody earlobes.

“THERE HE IS!” June screeched.

“GET HIM!” Ty Lee roared.

“THE BOULDER IS FUCKED!” screamed the… well, you know, The Boulder.

Ty Lee matrixed through the air, landing on his head. June thundered after the both of them. They disappeared into the darkness.

“THE BOULDER IS RUNNING! THE BOULDER IS BEING PUNCHED! THE BOLDER IS--AAAAHHHHHHHHH… THE… BOULDER... der... the… Boul… Bo… The… B...”

The Boulder was never seen or heard from again. Rumour has it that he moved to Hawaii, where he now owns and operates a successful pineapple farm.

“Oh yeah, this is just where I was hoping this evening was going...” crooned the voice of Chief-of-Medicine Faye Dunaway from directly behind Jet, who flinched. _How long has she been standing there?_ Chief-of-Medicine Faye Dunaway had her eye on Suki, who was now doing the Macarena with Moira and Sera. _That was quick..._ Jet thought to himself. Chief-of-Medicine Faye Dunaway pulled a large knife from her gum-boot and advanced on Suki, approaching her with such magnetism that Suki was caught like a deer in headlights as Chief-of-Medicine Faye Dunaway backed her up against a wall. She ran the knife down the side of Suki’s face.

“You got a real pretty face...” She breathed into Suki’s ear. Chief-of-Medicine Faye Dunaway was notorious for removing the faces of much younger girls and passing them off as her own. Jet had always wondered if it was true; after meeting Chief-of-Medicine Faye Dunaway he’d begun to believe it very well could be...

Suki calmly raised her arm and slowly moved the knife away from her face. _Keep it together, Suki!_ – it was one of the rare moments of telepathy between Jet and Suki. “I know,” she said almost too evenly, “would you please excuse me?” She calmly turned and left the scene. Once Chief-of-Medicine Faye Dunaway had set her sights on another, Suki immediately began hyperventilating and ran to the bathroom, where she proceeded to splash her face and check for cuts, all the while, frantically babbling “Oh my fuck, I nearly died!” to herself over and over again. Once she was over the initial shock, she braced herself against the doorframe and muttered “Where’s Haru?” She was clearly in need of some I-Nearly-Died sex.

_The end of the century, I said my goodbyes.  
For what it’s worth I always aim to please,  
But I nearly died._

_For what it’s worth, come on lay with me,  
Cause I’m on fire. For what it’s worth  
I’d tear the sun in three, to light up your eyes._

_Woohoo! The Placebo part of the playlist has begun.._. Jet thought happily to himself. On that note, he wondered where Zuko was – only just realising that Zuko had actually disappeared about... twelve shots ago? _Eh, who’s counting?_ Jet’s immediate worry was that Chief-of-Medicine Faye Dunaway had cut his face off, but this fear was alleviated when he spotted her apparently doing some sort of traditional Jewish dance – with her arms folded across her chest, she bounced up and down, whilst kicking her legs out in the middle of the living room surrounded by cheering and clapping people.

Jet began wandering around in an attempt to find Zuko, all the while wondering whether or not there had been any chemistry between them that night or if he had he been imagining it. He knew it would be a bad idea to do anything... wouldn’t it? Jet opened Zuko’s bedroom door and froze.

Over the sound of the music, people and Chief-of-Medicine Faye Dunaway, as well as each other, it made sense that Zuko and Mai didn’t notice Jet in the doorway, as he stood immobile, inwardly screaming at himself to move or close the door. Something. He simply stared, almost curiously at what was in front of him. Zuko had his head craned back, with his eyes shut and his mouth open slightly, as Mai, gripping his hair, with her head buried in his neck, moved on top of him. Zuko flopped his head down, his mouth moving over her collarbone and down her chest – fingers digging into her back. She then took his head firmly in her hands and kissed him forcefully on the mouth, spurring him to drive her onto her back.

It was this moment that Jet seemed to regain his basic motor functions and managed to spin around and close the door behind him without being noticed. He clamped his hand over his mouth, wondering if perhaps he just kept his hand there, everything would just stay inside him.  
 _  
No one cares when you’re out on the street,  
Picking up the pieces to make ends meet.  
No one cares when you’re down in the gutter,  
Got no friends, got no lover..._  



End file.
